


Blood Splattered Banner

by kolxhero_0



Series: Blood Splattered Banner [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood and Gore, Complete, Drama, Guro, Hardcore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain, RusAme, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 29,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolxhero_0/pseuds/kolxhero_0
Summary: Russia discovers America's unconscious body in his territory. Was he purposely stranded in the middle of the unforgiving tundra? The story gets complicated. (RusAme)
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Series: Blood Splattered Banner [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103291
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((This is a super old fanfic I wrote 10 years ago. It is a confusing mess and terribly written, but I decided to post it here anyways.  
> I apologize ahead of time if you decide to give it a read... it bad. -kolxhero-0))

The wind blew the falling snow, it creating a thick fog. Through the haze, a limping figure walked slowly through the endless deep sea of white. From beneath his jacket he looked to the sky, the wind taking back his hood in one foal breathe. His blond hair was speckled with flakes, covering his glasses in a thin layer. Lips cracked by the dryness of the endless winter, he tried to wet them with his tongue. However, his effort was futile. His clothes were ratted and torn, his huddled arms the only thing keeping them on his nearly frozen body. He uncoiled himself trying to adjust his hood, once again a gust of wind hit him. It sending his jacket flying, his only protection against the harsh storm. He stood stunned for a moment his hands still in place where the jacket had slipped through his fingers. The blonde let his arms fall, dropping down to the snow covered ground. White began to fall on his bare arms, no-longer melted against his skin.

He smiled weakly to the sky. "I'll be okay. I mean, heroes don't lose...I'm still a hero, right?" He asked himself quietly. The sound of the fierce wind was his only answer. He shut his eyes, letting himself fall face first into the white blanket, exhausted. It was cold, so very cold.

The time passed, at last another person appeared, he, walking from the east. The man was tall and built. He was dressed warmly, a smile spread wide across his face. His hair, a whitish light grey blew about his full cheeks. He hummed, and sung as he went. "I go to see, the yellow flowers bloom. Someday I'll have them too! It makes me want to ki... Da?" He paused, his smile subsiding. Startled by the half covered man sticking out of the snow. Bending down, he uncovered the fallen man's face. "America?" he gasped, hardly believing his eyes.

He arose back up, looking around for signs of someone else. Alfred and him were not on the best terms with each-other, in fact he was pretty sure his boss hated America at the moment. His smile returned, as gruesome thoughts appeared in his brain. He thought about how much fun he could have with America's unconscious body, helpless against him. Sighing he leaned down and uncovered the rest of his body, rolling him over to his back. The tall man put an ear to America's chest. It was faint, but his heart was still beating. He removed his scarf and wrapped it thoughtfully about his neck, only hesitating a moment to contemplate choking him with it. The man undid his long coat, slipping his arms from the sleeves, openly hanging from his shoulders. He picked his unconscious enemy from his self-made white grave, letting his coat fall around him.

The tall man turned back to the east from where he had come, once again breaking out in song. " I go to see, the yellow flowers bloom. Someday I'll have them too! It makes me want to ki..."

America began to stir, his eyes fluttering. He was so warm and comfortable, he almost did not want to face the world. 'He was warm.' His eyes flashed open, sitting up quickly.

"Oh my God, I'm DEAD! " He exclaimed, wide eyed looking all around him. The tall man smiled from the fire place and waved. "Russia, why are you here? My God, there must be a mistake! Why the fuck is Russia here...I'm in HELL? I'm a HERO! Heroes don't go to Hell! FUCK FUCK FUCK!" America fell to the floor from the bed he had been laying, falling onto a wet pair of boots. He grabbed one and held it up in self defense. "Don't you move DEMON! I knew you weren't human! I knew it! You wanna know why, because I'm AMERICA!" He noticed the shoes were his own, he gasped and dropped it in his lap. He felt his clothes, they were not his. 'meaning...' "You raped me, didn't you! You fucking perv! Your worse than France!"

"Now that's going a bit too far. Plus, is that the way to act towards the person who just saved your life?" Russia interrupted, his smile gone. "Of course, I could put you back where I found you...or if you want, the rape thing doesn't sound so bad." He held a finger to his chin thoughtfully.

America lifted the blanket up to his face, but soon realized it was not a blanket at all. He recognized it as Russia's coat, quickly pushing it off himself. "So, I'm not dead?"

Russia had not spoken to America in awhile, he had forgotten how much of a complete idiot the younger nation was. Russia felt his chest checking if he was actually alive, pretending to act stupid. "Nope, unless you're a ghost." He smiled down at America, 'innocently.'

America sighed in relief, rubbing the back of his neck. His hand met the scarf, he removed it from himself spasmodically. Pushing away, he ended up back against the bed frame. Russia walked to his side, taking a seat on the mattress. He held his hand out revealing a pair of cracked spectacles, America snatched them away quickly sliding them into place.

"Why were you out in the storm?" Russia asked curiously.

"Like I'd tell you, commie." He replied adjusting his glasses. America folded his arms, not looking in his direction. He hated Russia, well at least his boss did at the time.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You always have to be so difficult." Russia shook his head. He leaned over and sprawled out above Alfred on the mattress. Alfred, startled, turned around on the floor to face him, sliding away from the bed. America looked up at him, watching Russia closely. Russia was looking up at the ceiling. The fire crackled, making America Jump. Russia turned his head and laughed in his direction. "So jumpy."

"That would be because I'm in the room with an unstable psychopath." America said harshly.

Russia adjusted himself, letting his head hang over the bed upside down. His hair fell from his face and he laughed again, his eyes closed. Alfred glared at the man in disgust, waiting for a chance to run for it. He wondered if he could run for it. 'Russia was hoping he would try to run, then he could have some fun chasing him down and mashing his face in with his pipe.' Although Russia had saved America, his boss would never forgive him if he let him go freely. He was found in Russian territory after all, trespassing was not something taken lightly by Russia. 'Plus, he was bored.'

"America, I know you are a moron, so I will try to say this in terms you can understand. You'll tell me why you were in my territory, or I will hurt you until you tell me. I can go into more detail if you'd like..." Russia said sitting back up on the bed, he swung his feet back over the side. America was in terror, only he refused to show it. He put on his tough man persona instead.

"I don't think that is anyone else's business but my own." He pushed himself up off the floor, wobbling a little. His leg still hurt from his journey, there was no way he could run on it. "Now, if you could excuse me, I think I'll go and make a call to England to come pick me up. I've had quit a long day, almost dying in all." He walked towards the door on the far side of the room. Russia let him reach halfway across, before getting up. He grabbed his favorite pipe from the chair, snatching Alfred by his hair. America gasped, helpless against the larger nation. Russia pulled him back, his lips close to America's ear.

"Alfred, have you forgotten what I said already? You really are an idiot, aren't you? Tell me, or I will hurt you." Russia cooed in a whisper. America gulped, his throat still dry.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't you ever call me by that name! I don't think you remember what I said, Commie Shit. It's none of your BUSINESS!" America yelled, knowing it was stupid. However, this was how heroes acted. He was after all, a hero.

"Again, I have no idea why you have to be so difficult. However, I am a man of my word." He said softly, he pushed America to the ground. Russia swung his pipe, America caught it in one hand. It was ripped from him, Alfred held his arm up to shield his face from the end of Russia's pipe as it came again. There was a loud crack. America held his injured arm, but refused to cry out. He did not have much time to recuperate, once again the pipe was thrusted down on him. This time going for his legs, America moved them quickly out of the way. Russia missed, smashing a dent into the wood flooring. Russia looked at him, smiling a wicked smile. "I did not realize you could move this well. I'll have to make sure you stay still." Russia moved away, America tried to get to the door scrambling to his feet. He moved as fast as he could, but Russia somehow got there before him. He slammed the door shut, rope dangling from his fisted hand.

"You son of a bitch!" America said, spitting on the floor between them. Russia came at him, America stumbling back. He caught him before he hit the floor, again by the hair. His face got close to Alfred's, the mad smile still across his face.

"I'm just going to let you know, I've wanted to do this for a long time." Russia hissed. "I'm going to have fun, although I don't think you'll enjoy it too much. In fact, I'll make sure of that, Alfred. " He laughed softly, America glaring at his cruel gaze.

"Fucking Commie Bastard! Commie Shit! Drunken MONSTER! A..." America said viciously, Russia cut him off throwing his victim's body against the wall nearly into the burning fireplace. There was another loud crack, Alfred winced. Russia laughed at the sight, slightly wishing he had not missed the fire. "A-a-asshole." America finished, panting. He squirmed, pulling himself with his good arm across the wall.' Amazed at the realization his glasses still remained in place.' The bed was close, under it was a pile of twisted metal pipes. 'Which was weird, and kind of creepy, but America did not have time to think about that.' Russia saw him straining, letting the tips of his figures touch one of them. Letting Alfred have the thought he might be able to ward him off, just for a moment. Then he slammed his foot down, there was a crunch made under his foot. He twisted it, blood gushing out from the edges around his boot. America's hand pinned, his arm was stuck out exposed. Alfred yanked to get free as Russia swung his pipe aiming for the inner forearm. There was a horrible smack sound, followed by a crack. America's eyes were shut tightly, his teeth clinched in pain. Russia lifted his foot, letting America have back his now shattered limb.

"Well, so much for your arms. Are you going to answer me, or are you legs next? Or perhaps your ribcage, I'll snap them one by one." Russia said, leaning down, smiling happily. America kicked him, hard. Russia, unamused, snatched his feet bonding them tightly with the rope. Alfred squirmed against him, thrashing as Russia drug him to the center of the room. A trail of blood followed, staining the rug. He tied the loose end of the rope to the chair and took a seat, weighing it down so his captive could not worm away. Russia sat legs spread, Alfred on the floor in-between them. He was getting annoyed with him, though he knew he could not kill him 'not yet anyways'. Russia took a swig from the vodka bottle next to him.

"Let me go, Drunk Commie!" Alfred continued to squirm, trying, in vain to moved his arms that were limp raised above his head. He knew his insults were getting less and less good, and kind of lame. If he ever got out of this mess, he had to remember to hire someone to come up with new ones for him. 'Not England, he was not funny at all. Maybe Prussia...if he wasn't being an ass.' Russia noticed America drifting off in thought, he moved his pipe, pressing it to his crotch. America freaked out, snapping back to reality. "Perverted Commie, STOP!" Alfred said, thinking that his insult was incredible awesome and maybe he did not need to hire someone after all. Russia smiled at America's pitiful name calling.

"I'm sick of playing nice with you Alfred." Russia said, examining the vodka bottle in his hand. He wondered how many ways he could inflict pain using it. America rolled his eyes, unimpressed, then thought maybe he should be a bit worried...'nah.' He sat the bottle down gently, grabbing his pipe once again. Getting up slowly, his back turned away. Then twisting the pipe in his gloved hands, he began his assault. He laughed madly, striking the American's body repeatedly. Although the man was careful not to hit the man's face, 'he didn't want to shatter his glasses.' Blood spattered the room, America cried out. Horrible noises coming from his lips as the mad Russian beat him unmercilessly.

America was leaking blood through his half closed lips, gasping for breath. Red oozed from his beaten body, his clothing completely soaked through. Shredded to the point that most of his battered skin was exposed to the open air. Russia wiped the splattered blood from his own face. He grabbed the bottle of liquor, taking a drink then poured the rest onto his captives ripped flesh. The American winced, his body tensing from the sting of the clear fluid entering his fresh wounds.

"C-commie...bastard." Alfred coughed, spilling more blood. He thought for sure he would bleed to death. America looked at Russia, his vision losing focus. He watched as the Russia pulled something from the fireplace, it was the pipe. The end glowing a hot red, Russia laughed at America's beaten state. Slipping off the smaller nations spectacles and securing them in his pocket.

"I wonder, if a nation can go blind?" Russia sing-sung in a dark voice. The glowing end neared America's eye, he closed them tightly. Russia continued to get close, America could feel the intense heat near his eyelid. Seeing the blaze through, though his eyes were shut. "What a shame, you truly do have a pair of beautiful eyes." The Russian touched it to his captives face, a small hissing noise came, then the American's blood curtailing scream. The mad man press it hard against his lids. The smell of burning flesh filling the room, over taking everything else. The end of the pipe had lost its heat, Russia removed it from America. A line of raw blistered flesh stretched across the nations face. America lay in agony, unable to move. Russia examined the mark, rotating his head with the edge of his boot. "Open your eyes, I want to know if you can see." He said, childishly curious.

"Sh-shut up." America stuttered, shivering from the trauma. The larger nation walked about the man on the floor. Alfred could hear the sound of his heavy boots, muffled by the puddle of blood. He suddenly feel to his knees atop him. Russia collapsing on America's broken ribcage. America cried out, the impact sending his blistered eyelids open. Everything was dark, blurry, his vision covered with black spots. He saw Russia leaning down, inspecting him. His massive weight bearing down on the injured nation's body.

"That looks painful, can you see me?" Russia asked, waving his hand near his face. America glared at Russia viciously, Russia sent his hand down. America shut his eyes, waiting for impact. Yet none came, only Russia's soft voice. "So you can see! Awe, oh well don't worry, I can fix that... unless you want to tell me what I want to know?" He caressed America's check, feeling the wet sticky face of the helpless hero through his leather glove. America's eyes flashed painfully open, he watched as Russia retreated his hand. He licked the blood that lingered on his finger tips, making his mouth water from the coppery sweetness. A trail of it strayed from the corner of his mouth, Russia removed it with his stained tongue. He smiled down at America gleefully, lust in his eyes.

'N-ne-never..." Alfred said weakly, his mouth a bloody sea of red. Russia's face got close to his, he could smell the alcohol on his breath. America closed his eyes again, wondering what the Russian man would do to him next. There was a small click, the smell of tobacco entering his nostrils. He did not know Russia had smoked,' but then figured he didn't.' America coughed as the smoke was blown in his face.

"Open up Alfred, I want to see those pretty eyes of yours. It is a shame for you to hide them." Russia said blowing another huff of smoke. America did not respond, nor did what he was asked. 'There was no way a hero, such as himself, would give into Commie Scum.' Russia slipped the cigar into his mouth, using one hand to pry open Alfred's clinched eyelids. He had managed to open one, it bloodshot. Russia puffed into it, it watered. Russia looked pleased at the reaction, smiling. Moving the cigar from his lips with his free hand, he brought it down. Hovering it above America's left pupil. "Last chance Alfred." He cooed.

"I...I will not." America said, hesitating. The butt of the cigar reached his eye, he felt the burning embers as Russia pressed it painfully hard. Seeing the red as it hissed against his iris, screaming out. He heard a small pop from inside his head, feeling a warm flood fall down his face; everything went dark. Russia let America's eye return shut, covering the now empty socket. America's teeth clattered, he was going into shock 'he knew it.' Shivering uncontrollable, unable to stabilize himself. He felt a warm sensation trickle down his leg.

Russia laughed, noticing that America had wet himself. "Don't worry Alfred. You can clean that up before you leave...that is if you leave."He said, mocking him. The phone began to ring from the hallway, Russia contemplated answering it or not. Taking a long sigh, he got up off of America and went for the door. "I'll be back." He said cheerfully, shutting the door behind him. With Russia gone, Alfred let himself weep. It hurt him to cry, but he could not control himself any longer. He hated to cry, he hated himself, and most of all hated Russia. America soon heard Russia's returning footsteps, the door flew open. Alfred tried his hardest to stop his tears, but they kept going. He turned his head away from Russia, trying to hide them from his view. "Bad news Alfred, my boss got a call from yours. Seems he wants you back so badly, he blabbed for you. Your off the hook, too bad I was just starting to have fun." The Russian said walking closer, curious why he had hide his face. Stepping over his body, he bent down to see. The larger nation saw the blooded tears running down his cheeks, he chuckled. "Awe, I'd love to continue too. No reason to be so sad, if you'd like you can come back later." Russia cut America free from the chair, scooping him up he sat him on the bed. His body had been reduced to a bloody ragdoll. "You're so much cuter when you are not speaking." The Russian said, returning the glasses lovingly to his captives face. He brushed his hair back from his face, kissing him softly on the forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

Russia smiled as America twitched, his mouth opening to protest. A gurgling noise came out, he could not form words. He turned his head to the side, blood spilling out onto the pillow. Holding Alfred's head in place, Russia bent back down this time pressing his mouth to his. He let his tongue slip into his mouth, tasting him. America's good eye opened, watching the massive dark outline of Russia making out with him. He began to gag as Russia started shoving his tongue deeper down his throat, he could not breath. Unable to bite down on the thing, the man continued to linger. Exploring the content of his mouth with nothing holding him back. He man pulled his head back slowly, removing himself. A trail of saliva connecting their lips.

"I've decided, I do want to rape you. Your just too cute not to, and I can't let this opportunity slip by." He whispered, swinging his leg overtop Alfred. America felt the bed be weighed down, he was pinned. The large nation tore Alfred's clothing off effortlessly, well, what had been left of them. America laid helplessly naked, ashamed.' How had he let this happen, to be dominated by the Commie Shit now on top of him, and worst of all, his boss had betrayed him.' Russia did not care if the smaller nation enjoyed himself or not, he lined himself up. Pressing his massive sized member inside his opening, quickly. America grunted throwing back his head, mouth wide. Russia began to pound into him hard, keeping at an outrageously fast pace. All America could do was wait till it was over. Soon he felt the movement cease, a hot liquid filling him. Russia laughed, watching his blooded manhood leave his fellow nation. He leaned over his body. "Good boy." Russia whispered, America losing consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

The night air was cold, a small flutter of snow fell outside the old English cottage. Inside, a well dressed English gentleman sat sipping a late tea. The small fireplace, down to embers burned slowly; then died. A small amount of gray smoke coming from the ash. There was a sudden knock at the door, England jolted up. Nearly losing the crumpet from his plate.

"Who could that be at this hour?" England pondered going to the door. He adjusted his robe and swung the door aside. The wind blew harshly at him, he shivered against it. Peering down on his mat, a figure lay. Half covered in a blooded sheet, face down. Startled, England went to the man's side checking his vital signs. He was alive, barely. He threw the man's arm over his shoulder, dragging him inside. The man was much larger than himself 'not saying much', he laid him down on the coach pushing the hair from his face. He examined him, unable to identify him in his beaten state. Something fell from the covers hitting the ground with a small click. A pair of square framed spectacles feel from the sheet, England gasped in horror rushing to the phone. "France, come quickly! America ha...is..." Tears swelled in the man's eyes, sniffling.

"What's wrong with him? Tell me eyebrows!" The Frenchman demanded.

"A-al-alfred..." England cried, hysterically. France continued to question him from the other end of the phone, England dropping it to the ground. He went back to his brother, unsure of what he could do. Sobbing into the sheet that laid atop him.

"Arthur, what happ..." France stormed into the house, stopping dead in his tracks. England was sobbing over the blooded body stretched out on the Englishman's coach. France rushed to them, worry stricken. "Is he still breathing? Get out of the way, you blubbering idiot! Go get your medical supplies, NOW! Hurry!" He yelled, anger in his voice. England did as he was told, hurrying about the house. France removed the sheet from Alfred's battered self. He inspected him, stomach unsettled by the condition he was in; unsure of how the man could still be alive. Arthur returned with the first aid kit, shaking.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's called...soccer...no...t...footba..." America's eye fluttered, coming to.

"Hey Arthur, I think he's waking up!" France called, setting down his wine glass. He walked over and looked at the bandaged man on the bed. England rushed in taking a seat in the chair next to him.

"Englan...don...feed me tha...t...I'll blow chunk..sss..." America murmured. France burst out laughing pointing a digit in the Englishman's face, he was unamused.

"Shut-up!" England replied cross. "My cooking is not that bad!"

"Franc...ce...Arthur...when he wa...sick..." More words came from the man on the bed.

"What did you do when I was sick? You perverted GIT!" England yelled, outraged. France shrugged and smirked.

"I have no clue what he is saying." The Frenchman said defending himself.

"Yeah, I'm sure." England said, sarcastically.

"I...wan...maple syru...p fro...m leaf ma...n..." America called out abruptly.

"I'm Canada!" The third man said from the chair across the room. France and England stopped fighting and looked back at him, 'they had forgotten he was there. ' America's right eye 'his only eye' opened slowly, focusing on the two figures near him. His head hurt, he groaned. All the focus went to him, gathering around him.

"Good morning Alfred." England said soft and caringly. Alfred blinked a few times, then memories started to rush back to him. He winced, quickly pushing them away.

"How long was I out?" America asked hoarsely, trying to move his body to sit up. He could barely lift his fingers, 'Damn Commie,' he thought.

"Two weeks." France whispered, it was hard to look at him this way. The man who had always been so full of life, hardly breathing. England helped his brother, propping him up with some pillows. After doing so, Arthur quickly looked away. There was a long break of silence, America's gaze went to each one of his brothers. No one would look him in the eye.

"I want a mirror." America demanded, wanting to see himself after seeing their uneasiness.

"Are you hungry? France will make you some-" England was interrupted.

"A mirror, Arthur!" He yelled, glaring at him. France pulled a compact mirror from his trouser, 'all true Frenchmen carried them' and slowly held it open to his face. America's jaw hung open as he saw how horrific he looked. A red blotchy scab ran across his face, half covered by an eye patch over his left eye. He saw his body almost completely covered in white bandages and gauze. "Holy Uncle Sam, I look like a Mummifieded Pirate!" His company looked away, avoiding his direction. 'the Englishman bit his tongue, straining hard against the urge to correct the illiterate man's speech.' America turned his head away, clinching his teeth. 'Drunken Savage!' He wanted to yell, punch something, or rather someone.

"Am...America?" Canada said, holding his bear tightly against his chest.

"What!" He said viciously, flashing his teeth; still clinched. Canada timidly backed away, hiding behind the others.

"Alfred! Don't speak to your brother in that tone! He has been waiting at your side for days just to see if you were okay!" England scolded. America flashed his gaze to the Englishman, rage in his eye.

"Okay?" Alfred said, giving a very wicked chuckle. "Do I fucking look OKAY!" He screamed. 'he was going to kill that Commie Bastard!' The room was silent once more, only the sound of America's hard breathing. Although his brain wanted revenge, he would have to wait for his body to catch up. It was not even close to walking, there was no way he could take on the Russian. 'Clearly'


	6. Chapter 6

"Owe!" America cried, taking another hobbly step. Alfred leaned on England for support, 'well, more than he already was.' It had been about three months since his 'accident.' Most of the wounds he had suffered healed. He wore the patriotic American Flag eye-patch France had gotten him, flashy, but 'surprisingly' America loved it. It matched his tie, socks, 'underwear'. His right wrist and left leg remained broken. The cast covered with the names of several nations, Russia's name written the largest. The I was dotted with a small heart following a short 'thoughtful' message, that read;

"Alfred, I hope you will come play at my house soon. You sure left a mess from the last time you visited! Don't worry, you can come clean it up when you get better. I will be waiting!

Love,

Russia"

"Shut up, you're the one who wanted to take the bloody stairs!" England said, almost losing his footing. He was straining under the weight of his brother on the stairway, trying to stay balanced. "If you make us fall, so help me; I'll make sure you can't move for a year!" America sighed and took another painful step. He winced.

"UGH, I can't take it anymore!" He exclaimed, "England, carry me?" Alfred whined, smiling playfully.

"I basically am!" England said, struggling to keep them sturdy. "Plus, Russia offered to take you to the meeting. I don't understand why you couldn't have let him, he was being nice. But no! You had to burden me, you annoying git!"

America's smile was suddenly replaced with seriousness. 'Russia, nice,' the words almost made him want to shove England down the stairs. He had told no one about what had occurred at Russia's home the night he had been dumped off on Arthur's doorstep. Refusing to talk to anyone about it, most of the time pretending it never happened. Changing the subject whenever the question had come up, 'and it did often.' America unwrapped his arm from around his shoulder. Silently he shifted himself on the railing, relieving his brother.

"You go ahead. I can manage on my own." America said sullenly, shaking the thoughts from his head. England blushed, ashamed; 'perhaps he had said too much'. He cleared his throat, returning Alfred's arm.

"Idiot wanker, if I leave you here; the others will think ill of me." England sighed. "Besides, without you we might actually get something accomplished, and we don't want that." He continued, sarcastically. America was angry with himself, in making Arthur feel guilty. They continued going up the stairs, quietly.

"Hey." America interrupted, England was startled by the abruptness. They stopped, not looking at each other. Alfred began to speak again, slowly. "Thank you for, uh, taking care of me and everything. You really are a great brother." He blushed, looking down to his casted leg 'Russia's name looking up at him, tauntingly. ' England was flattered, tears swelling in his eyes.

"Much better than you, fat bastard." He sniffled, America laughed at him.

"Are you crying?" He asked, looking at him with a grin.

"N..no.. Shut up!" Arthur protested, tripping on himself. America chuckled harder, England wiped his eyes and they continued walking. Laughter still in the air.

After finally making it to the meeting hall, England sat America in his chair. Then he went over to argue with France, about how he had not been helping him with Alfred. With the two bickering, America adjusted himself. He stood up on his good leg and everyone fell silent, a few whispers still lingering. For a few of them, this was the first time that they had seen America's condition. There had been a lot of rumors about what happened, America refused to comment on any and all.

"Now, time to get down to the Nitty Gritty!" He said in his happy-go- lucky voice. Canada exhaled in relief, his brother seemed to feel good today. He smiled, happily. America caught his gaze, smiling back. 'What is his name...Maple Man?'


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:
> 
> Yeah, I used different languages. I'm not too happy with this chapter; because of that reason.  
> They get confusing, I think.  
> Probably avoid using them in the future.
> 
> ((Pft-that is the original note from when this was first posted, way back in the day.))

The meeting ended early, America was glad. 'He was sick of looking at Russia's face, smiling bastard.' The conference room was nearly empty, everyone off to the hotel and then to dinner. Alfred began to lift himself from his seat, France was there by his side. England had somehow convinced him to take over the task of helping him.

"Ah zut! Vous avez pris quelques kilos , no?" France said playfully, taking the position as his crutch. America looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

(Translation: 'Oh damn! You have gained a few pounds, no?')

"France, we both know I don't speak Francenese . " He said, leaning on his shoulder.

"Yes, I forgot. Bête. " France replied, sarcastically. "Only English for now on."

(Translation: 'idiot.')

"English? No, I speak American; I'm America, duh." America said, 'stupid France, doesn't even know what language I speak.' He chuckled, at France's 'Ignorance'.

"Clearly..." France sighed, unwilling to argue with idiocy. "Arthur says you refuse to use a wheelchair...or crutches. Is there any reason?"

"I don't need them!" America said, a bit annoyed. France pressed the button of the elevator, the little arrow lit up. He knew Alfred well, he was stubborn.

"From my position, it seems you may benefit if you did have them. Peu?" He said, the doors parting opened.

America looked at him cross, 'me, in a wheelchair, unthinkable! I am America, I am a hero, weak grandpas use wheelchairs...maybe a cane would be kinda cool though. Yeah, Like with a sword in it! Maybe Japan can make one, Awesome...,' he thought to himself. They entered the small room, it was 'empty'.

"Hey America!" Cried a small voice from beside him. America gasped, someone was there. It was Canada, Alfred was happy with himself at remembering his name.

"Oh, hey Matty! Didn't even see you standing there." He replied happily.

"Yeah, no one ever does." Canada sighed, hugging his small polar bear companion.

' Bonjour petit frère , je veux avoir des rapports sexuels plus tard. Nous sommes dans la chambre , non? Je vais vous sucer la bite. Vous le voulez , je sais que vous faites." France greeted, smiling.

(Translation: ' Hello little brother , I Want To Have Sex later. We are sharing a room , right? I'll suck your d***. You want it, I know you do.')

"W-what?" Canada exclaimed, timidly. "Aren't y-you sharing a room with A-America? "

"I switched with Italy." The Frenchman said, undressing Canada with his eyes. America looked at France suspiciously.

"So, I'm rooming with the pasta guy? What about England?" He asked. Alfred did not have a problem with Italy, but he would rather be with one of his brothers.

"Well, Russia got a room to himself. England traded him, who was roommates with Germany. Seems he needed some alone time; perhaps tired of 'someone'. Peut-être?" France said, still making perverted gestures in Mathews direction. America clearly knew the 'someone' France was speaking of, was himself. England had been with him since 'it' happened, he was sure his brother was tired of constantly being with someone. America did feel bad for being a burden. However, he could not imagine that Germany would cause him much grief. The man always kept to himself.

(Translation: 'Maybe?')

"B-but, didn't England say for you to be with him France?" Canada asked, staring at the ground.

" Oui, oui! but I figure since England can switch rooms, there was no reason to limit myself. Plus I'm sure he would not care, à tous les." France answered, watching the Canadian intimately.

(Translation: 'Yes,Yes!'...',at all.')

"Maybe I should check with England, j-just to make sure." Canada said worried. He did not want to stay with his brother, not with the way he was looking at him. Mathew pulled his phone from his pocket.

"No! It's fine, don't bug him. I really don't mind sharing a room with Italy, really." America protested, Canada stopped dialing and returned his phone. His heart sank, 'now he was stuck with perverted France'.

"Are you sure?" Mathew asked, hoping he would change his mind.

"Yeah! Positive, I'll be fine!" Alfred chuckled. He would be fine, it was just Italy. The elevator doors slide open, the lobby was full of other nations, chatting and waiting for their rides to the hotel. France sat America on one of the benches, and went off to flirt with Canada some more. He watched as people passed him, a few stopping to say hello and ask how he was.

"Italy?" A deep voice called, almost in song. America stopped socializing and focused on the voice.

"Hey Russia!" Italy replied, Alfred watched as the two talked. "Who are you rooming with?"

"Germany, I believe. Da?" Russia replied thoughtfully with a smile, Italy smiled back. "How about you?"

"Oh, I'm with America. France switched rooms with me, he told me to take good care of him!" Italy said happily.

"I see. That is a pretty big responsibility, for someone so small. America is quite a bit larger than you, isn't he? Not to say you wouldn't make an excellent babysitter. However, should not the sitter be suited for the ребенок. da?" Russia replied, America listened carefully. It was obvious what he was trying to do. Italy thought for a minute.

(Translation: 'Baby')

"Your right, Sì! Russia, will you trade rooms with me? Your much more suited than me." Italy proposed.

"Well, I do not know. I do not think America likes me much." Russia said, frowning.

"No, that can't be right! Why wouldn't anyone not like you? You are so nice, plus America is a good guy. There is no way he does not like you!" Italy said, comforting the larger nation.

"Alright, I'll do it. для вас." Russia replied, in a small coo.

(Translation: 'for you.')

" Eccellente!" Italy squeeled, he handed Russia his key. Russia took it smiling, he looked over to America. Seeing him watching, he dangled the key and waved. America glared, 'Commie Shit.'

(Translation: 'Excellent!')


	8. Chapter 8

The ride to the hotel was short, America, 'and Canada' dreading every second. Him, Canada, France and England had all shared their cab. Surprisingly there was little arguing,' less than usually; anyways.' Alfred was tempted to ask England to share his room, instead of with Russia. Fearing his brother's may wonder the reason why, he reluctantly kept his mouth shut.

"America, are you okay? You were kinda quiet on the way here." Canada asked, as they all piled out of the taxi van. Canada took his turn helping him walk, France and England followed bickered about the cab fare. They entered the hotel together, their luggage proceeding on trolleys.

"No, I'm just a little tired." America smiled, trying to hide his discomfort. Canada nodded in agreement. Alfred noticed his brothers knees start to buckle, he was much larger than Canada. His focus shifted to a row of wheelchairs in the corner. "Hey Matty, uh, can you go get me one of those." The words stumbled out of his lips, he nodded his head to the corner. Mathew looked at the chairs, then back to his brother. America was embarrassed, cheeks flushed.

"Are you sure? You've never asked for a wheelchair before." Canada asked, startled. The other two had stopped fighting, all attention now on Alfred.

"I-I'll get you one." England said, shying away. He brought one over, and the three helped Alfred get situated. Everyone was quiet.

"Thank you." America said, avoiding looking at them. He watched as the sun went down from the window, his reflection blocking his view. 'What a pitiful sight.' Canada started to push him to the elevator, to take him to his room. America slammed his foot down suddenly, stopping himself. "No!" He protested.

"What's wrong?" Canada asked. England and France were startled by the sudden outburst.

"I don't need to change, I'll wait down here." He said, hiding his rage 'intended for Russia.'

"You could have just said something, no reason to be so dramatic." England said, a hand on his hip. He took his brother from Canada, wheeling him to a spot near the wall parallel to the check-in desk. America was filled with hateful thoughts, towards Russia. "Alfred. Are you okay, your acting strangely?"

"I'm fine. Just a little drowsy, it's been a long day." America lied.

"Whatever, I'm going up to change." England said, heading back to the elevators.

It did not take long for them to return. They got back into the same taxi van, it had been waiting for them. The driver, 'thrilled at their return,' held the door open for them. As soon as they entered, the arguing started once again.

The restaurant was crowded, allot of the nations had come to the same place. The group of four joined another party consisting of Japan and China. The conversation was comfortable and friendly. Everyone had been drinking, 'even those who should stay clear of alcohol. '

"I think I should take Canada back, Non?" France said as Canada giggled, he was drunk. His cheeks a rosy red.

"Yah, h-he is t-too drunk-k. He c-cannot even right t-talk." England nodded, just as intoxicated. "T-take Al too, he is to-oo Drunk!" He continued, America sighed.

"Do you guys mind helping us take them to the car?" America asked the other men from the other party. They agreed, helping them into their cab.

"Je vus remercie! Oh, et si jamais vous vous ennuyer ... appelez-moi. " France thanked, no one except the drunken Canadian understanding.

(Translation: 'Thank you! Oh, if you ever get bored...call me.')

"I have no clue why I hang out with those people." China sighed as they left. Japan nodded, half day dreaming; 'America's battle wounds are kind of attractive.'

When they arrived at the hotel, a wheelchair was waiting for Alfred. He lowered himself into it, with the help of the hotel staff, 'since his brothers were useless.' France carried Canada inside, murmuring French nothings in his ear. England had ran off down the street tearing away his clothes, 'yelling something about leprecons.' One of the security guards ran after in pursuit, a couple of the hoppers and the doorman recording the fiasco on their cell phones.

"Sir, would you like me to take you to your room?" The hotel manager asked, she had come out to see what the commotion was.

"Yeah, that be great thanks. Oh, and can you make sure my brother makes it to his?" America pointed in the direction of the stripping man, 'now completely nude.' They both watched as the large security guard finally tackled England. The crowd laughed, as the naked English man struggled to get away under the street lamp.

The woman pushed Alfred inside, to the elevator, and then to his room door. America thanked the lady again, sliding his key into the slot. There was a small click, he hesitated a moment. Wondering if it was such a good idea.

"Hey America! Do you need some help? Non è vero?" Italy said. He had somehow sneaked up behind Alfred without making any noise, 'and without any pants.' Italy did not wait for a reply, he pushed the door open wide. "There you go!" He said happily.

(translation: 'do you?')

"Da? Hi Italy, thanks for helping my roommate with the door. " Russia greeted. He was sitting on one of the beds, smiling. Only a towel was wrapped around his body covering him, 'that, and the stupid scarf around his neck; the one America wanted to strangle him with.'

"Yes...thanks, Italy. You are so helpful." America said, sarcastically. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"la vostra accoglienza!" He yelled, skipping down the hallway. Alfred looked up, glaring at the Russian enemy.

(translation: 'Your Welcome!')

"You better not just stand there, da!, I mean sit there. People will think your mentally handicapped, as well as physically. Don't worry though, this does not influence my opinion on that matter at all." Russia said cheerfully. Alfred sneered at him.

America knew that he was right, people would think something was wrong with him if he continued to linger in the doorway. He rolled himself in, letting the door shut behind. A thick layer of tension filled the room, the quiet before the storm.


	9. Chapter 9

The hotel room was dark, the moonlight looked through the blinds. Dark shadowed danced on the carpet. Two beds were to the left of the room directly in front of America who sat in his wheelchair, the entrance door behind him. A small bathroom was to his right in the tight little space. On one of the bed's, Russia sat covered only by a small towel; his teeth glistening in the dim light.

"Bastard. Why did you want to share a room with me so badly? I have nothing to say to you." America said, watching Russia closely. He knew firsthand what the psychopath was capable of. There was a gun in his suitcase, however it was on Russia's side of the room. 'Damn.'

"The emotion in your eyes, Oopsie... eye, say otherwise." Russia loved getting America pissed,' it was fun.'

"Son of a bitch." America spit at him. Russia arose from the bed, his towel beginning to slip from his body. America stood up from the chair, clinging to the bathroom handle. He tried opening it, it was locked. 'Or rather nailed shut.'

Russia covered one of his own amethyst colored eyes, indicating America's bad eye. " I would love to see, Вы тоже?" A smile stretched wide across his face, he neared closer.

(translation: 'you too?')

"Stay away Commie Shithole! Or..." America began to say, but had nothing to add. Russia had stopped in front of him, towering over America. His towel finally lost its hold, falling aside.

"Da, or what?" Russia asked. "Will you ask one of the others for help, your brothers? What would they think, they would find out about us. What would it do to your pride; hero? Your people?" He cooed, lifting his chin to examine his face. "You've healed quickly, well mostly."

"Get off me!" America yelled, smacking away his hand. He avoided looking at him, turning his head to the side. Russia chuckle an evil laugh.

"Oh, Alfred. I don't care if you see it...in fact your already quite acquainted with it. Da?" Russia said, he grabbed America's casted wrist. Alfred hissed in pain, the arm was far from being healed. America's eyes flashed back at Russia, furiously. He wished he could punch the bastard, however the doorknob was the only thing keeping him standing. There was no way, without taking a tumble. Russia leaned in close, wrapping America's hair around his fingers.

"Hush...Do not worry Alfred, I am not allowed to hurt you; 'at least not anywhere publicly noticeable. ' Unlike you, I listen to my overseers." Russia whispered in his ear.

"Shut up!" America yelled, flinching away. He had accidently let go of the door, Russia the only thing holding him stable. Alfred looked panicked, trying to balance on one leg. Russia smiling, he released his grasp. America fell to the ground with a thud.

"Careful, you might break something." Russia was amused, America was such great entertainment. He wished he would have found this out years ago. Usually World Conference Meeting trips were boring, not anymore. 'Russia wondered if America's brothers were this much fun too...' "You know, I laughed ,when I found out why you were in my territory."

"Quiet." America snapped, crawling across the floor to the bed. Russia grabbed the back of his shirt, lifting him to his feet. Russia's face was close to his, Alfred could smell the vodka on his breath. America coughed on the stench.

"They abandoned you." Russia said coldly, almost singing. It was deep and low, a icy chill ran down America's spine. "They left you to die in that storm." He hissed, his lips curled around his teeth into a horrible grin. Alfred's eyes were wide, 'where was the Russian getting this from.'

"D-don't Speak!" America stuttered.

"But I can see, you want to hear more." Russia continued, softer than before. Nearly inaudible, he went on. "They are hiding things from you, Alfred. Corrupt things, secrets, they are lying to you." America was in shock,' could it be true?' "They build you up with lies, feed you...and if you do not do as they predict. Things like this, happen to you. They try to persuade you."

"Get off me Commie Shit!" Alfred exclaimed, he had heard enough of this nonsense; 'was it nonsense?'

"All this Commie stuff, does it have anything to do with what they are telling you?" Russia proceeded, the eeriness was surrounding them. America felt suffocated. "Just shows how predictable you are, directing all your anger on me. I'm not the bad guy, quite the contrary, I am your ally. They were going to replace you, Alfred. Someday they are going to accomplish their goal, they will kill you Alfred F. Jones. The sad thing is by that time, no one will notice. I would hate to outlive someone, who is just a child." His words burned into his brain; 'it was a conspiracy? Everything...lies?' America did not know what to say, for the first time in a long while; America was speechless. "I can help you Alfred, I want to help you..."


	10. Chapter 10

"So, Alfred. Do you want my help?" Russia asked in a whisper, lifting America higher off the carpet.

"You're Insane." America said, his feet barely touching the floor. Russia had him by the shirt collar, nearly suffocating him.- Even if the guy was telling the truth, 'which there was no way he was', then what could Russia do to help?- America grabbed at his arm, trying to pry free. "LET GO!" America demanded. Russia walked forward, Letting America fall back on the bed. His cell phone slipped from his pocket, sliding off onto the floor. 'damn.'

"This seems, oddly familiar." The Russian said with a smirk. America sat up and struggling for air, rubbing the redness on his neck were his shirt had dug into him. His feet dangled over the edge of the bed frame. Russia smile intensified, taking hold of America's hands. He held them down to the bed, securely.

" Let go of me Bastard! I'll never want your help, not ever! Who in there right mind would? Your out of your fucking mind, Shit for Brains! "

"Am I?" Russia said, his eyes reduced to slits. The smile had disappeared from his face, leaning forward an inch away from Alfred's lips. "Da, maybe..." Russia lifted his leg, letting his knee rest atop America's right thigh. Thus, making it impossible for America to do anything to stop him. "Well, if you do not what my help, then I will just have my way with you now. Da?" He continued, the Russian pressed his lips to America's.

They were cold, numbingly so. He used his tongue, trying to find a way in. Alfred squirmed, then threw his head forward;head butting Russia hard. Stopping his pursuit, Russia backed away standing up. He collected himself for a moment, a trail of blood ran from his nose. Rubbing his head, he wiped the blood from his face.

America saw his chance, crawling on his hands and knees over the covers. In-between the two beds, his suitcase sat. He reached for the zipper, quickly slipping a hand through the opening. Searching blindly for his hand gun.

"Looking for this, Da?" America heard Russia ask, he looked back over his shoulder. Russia held the gun by the loop, swinging it back and forth. 'Shit.' Alfred watched as the Russian walked around the bed, taking a seat on the other across from him. Russia threw the gun to America, it hit the comforter beside him. America looked at him confused, sitting up on the bed. "I did not really want to have sex with you anyways. Once the deed is done, it is not as much fun the next time around." Russia sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. America glared at him, irritated.

Russia bent over into a large brown bag, rummaging around. America grabbed the gun up, aiming it at Russia's face.

"I already told you, I am not going to harm you. If I was going to, you would be half dead by now. Da?" Russia said, reassuringly.

Alfred glared at him, keeping the gun aimed. Russia lifted a small black box from the bag, he got up and walked to the window. Completely ignoring the fact a gun was being pointed at him.

"Alfred, I do not really care if you want help from me or not, I do not even care if you believe me. You are an ignorant little speck of dirt and that is why you will die, you deserve to die. Even your own country thinks that!" Russia chuckled, looking out the window through the blinds.

America was enraged, standing up from the bed. It hurt, but he walked near him, one painful step after another. He pressed the barrel to the back of Russia's head.

"Shut it!" Alfred yelled, his finger almost tempted to pull the trigger. He had never been so angry. His people loved him, right? He was their hero, that is why they sent him. Maybe Russia's people hated him, but not America's people they were different. They were all with him, not against him. America's heart ached, he wished he was somewhere else; anywhere else.

"You think your different, are you going to shoot me? That will prove your point." Russia laughed.

"Commie Shit! I'm nothing like you, not at all! Don't compare yourself with me, Savage!" America was losing his cool, straining to keep himself in check. 'don't kill him, don't kill him, that's only what he wants...' Russia laughing suddenly went dead, his body stiff. "You hear me?" America cried, waiting for a response.

"Alfred, be silent. There is something wrong." Russia pulled one of the blind rows down, looking out. He dropped down to the ground under the sill, America still stood confused. "Get down." Russia whispered.

"Why?" Alfred asked.

There was the sound of the glass shattering, as the bullet pierced through the window. America felt something hit him hard, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbled backwards to the carpet, the gun flying from his hand. He felt warm liquid soaking through his shirt. Alfred opened his eyes, holding the place where he had been struck. There was no hole, nothing, just blood. 'Then what hit him?' America's eyes went wide, he looked up.

"I-Ivan?" America said, in horror. Russia held his chest, he was grinning. Blood dripped to the floor, in a massive flow. He fell to his knees, the black box dropping from his hand.

"I have never heard you say my name before." Russia said calmly, he sounded the same as he always did. 'perhaps he was okay?' He pulled his hand away, looking at the stain. "Who would have thought, I actually had a heart?" Russia fell to his side, as the blood continued to pool around them. America hurried to him, rolling him over to his back.

"Ivan!" America called. 'He couldn't die, not here...not like this.' Although he hated him, he felt tears swell in his eyes. "You Bastard, WAKE UP!" Alfred yelled, hysterically crying. He shook his body, the smile still on Russia's face; eyes covered by untamed hair. America heard the door open from behind him, but he did not care. "GET UP!"

"Черт побери, зачем он здесь?" Alfred heard a man from behind him, he looked back. "Я, хотя он был один."

(translation: 'Damn it, why is he here?' ... 'I thought he was alone.')

There were two men, both dressed in black suits. By the way they spoke, America could tell they were Russian.

"Это Америка, верно?" The other man said, he was taller.

(translation: 'This is America, right?')

"Hey, help him!" America demanded.

"Вы можете нокаутирую его, что ли?" The first man asked the tall man.

(translation: 'Can you knock him out, or something?')

"Ладно, я на него." The man replied, grabbing America by the hair.

(translation: 'Okay, I'm on it.')

"Get off me! Help him, damn it! I did not do this, you got to get Help! He is going to die, don't you understand?" Alfred said, clawing at the Russian's hands. America had broken the skin, the man released him looking down at the blood. Annoyed he got the lamp from the end-table between the two bed's. "Please, Help HIM!" America yelled, he felt a blow to the head as the man hit him with the blunt object.

Alfred mind started to go blank, falling to the wet carpet. In a haze he saw Russia's body being tugged away, then all went black.


	11. Chapter 11

America awoke with a sharp headache, he sat up. He was in his hotel room, the sun shining brightly through the window. He heard voices talking from outside in the hallway, the other nations heading of to the conference.

"Da, good morning America!" A deep Familiar voice called, Alfred looked over. It was Russia, fully dressed, zipping his boots up from the bed across from him. America rubbed the back of his head, 'why...did it hurt so bad?"

"You better not of raped me while I was asleep...wait, did you say America?" America asked, it was strange. Russia had not called him America, since then. There was another pain, it was not only his head that hurt; his chest did too.

"Yes, that is your name, is it not?" Russia replied, he looked at America curiously.

"Yeah, I guess so." Alfred said, 'was he forgetting something?' He swung his foot over the bed, carefully lowering the other down. Russia's name caught his eye from the list of names on the cast, something was wrong. The I no longer had a heart dotting it, other than that it was the same. America had spent hours starring at the signature, 'did the heart fade away?'

"Is there something wrong, da?" Russia asked, America flashed his eyes up. He had forgotten he was there.

"I'm fine." America lied, he continued to look around the room. 'What was he forgetting?' He wondered, searching for clues.

"How is your head?" Russia asked, Alfred's gaze went back to his purple eyes.

"What happened to it?" America asked, 'he had not said anything about his head hurting.'

"You came in drunk last night and fell out of your wheelchair. Hit your head on the bed frame." Russia said, he started to make the bed. Adjusting the comforter. Something was uncovered on the ground, a small black box. America's chest pain increased, 'why?'

"What's that box?" America asked pointing, Russia looked to the floor. He reached down to pick it up, slowly opening the lid. Alfred watched closely, trying to see what it contained. Russia quickly replaced the cover, shoving the small box away in his suitcase at the foot of the bed.

"Condoms." Russia said with a smile. "Although I did not rape you, does not mean I was not thinking about it; Da."

'It did not make any sense, Russia did not use a condom last time. Maybe he had caught something since last time, probably from that Lithuania guy. It was obvious Russia was fucking that dude. -Or most likely a way to say that America was a dirty sex crazed maniac, and had gotten an HIV from a diseased prostitute or something. America knew if he did have a disease, then he had gotten it from Russia. -All of his whores had weekly checkups...' America thought, trying to make sense out of Russia's weirdness.

"You better hurry and get dressed America, the day two meeting starts soon." Russia advised, he stood up and walked to the window; his back turned.

America's heart raced, 'something was wrong, terribly wrong.' The lights flashed, the room going dark. Alfred grabbed at his chest, looking down at his hands; blood dripping from his finger tips and down the cast on his wrist. They began to shake, 'what was happening?'

"America?" Russia's voice interrupted, America looked up. The room was suddenly bright again, the blood on his hands, gone. "Your not looking so well." Russia's smile no longer was on his face, replaced with a look of concern.

"I'm FINE!" America snapped, his breathing heavy.'Was he going mad?' He wondered, still shaking. His chest ached again, he clinched it a painful look on his face.

"Good thing I don't have one of those." Russia said with a chuckle. Alfred eyes jolted back to him.

"One of those?" America asked.

"A heart." Russia answered him, as though it was common knowledge.

America saw the room going dark again, the image of Russia and the window the only thing remaining. He turned back around slowly, Alfred gasped. Blood poured out from a gapping hole in Russia's chest, America could not move, could not breath, as Russia's body collapsed to the carpet, soaked in red.

"Perhaps you should not partake in today's meeting." Russia said, Alfred's mind abruptly came back to reality. His teeth clinched, gripping tightly to the edge of the bed as though he had just experienced an earthquake.

"Yeah." America said uneasily, laying back down.

"I will inform them the reason of your absence." Russia said. He threw on his jacket,walking across the room. "Feel better, America." He proceeded to leave, closing the door behind him. It clicked shut.

America starred at the raze of light that danced on the ceiling. He put a hand over his eyes, holding it there. 'What's wrong with me?' He thought, listening to the people talking in the hallway.


	12. Chapter 12

After awhile, America's curiosity got the best of him. He hoped off the bed and wobbled over to Russia's bag. Looking around him to make sure no-one was watching, he un-zipped the top and rummaged for the black box. It did not take long for him to find it, he pulled it out examining it closely. He flipped it over in his hand. Printed on the bottom was the initials A.F.J . Alfred thought for a moment, then realized they were his initials. 'Commie Bastard, he must have stollen this from me!' Alfred quickly flipped open the lid, a piece of paper sat on top. A note from Russia...

"Alfred,

I usually am not sorry, but Russia is sorry. Hopefully someday you will see me as a friend and call me Ivan, as I call you Alfred. Although I had fun, Russia may have taken fun a tad too far. Also, I do not enjoy being a pon in someone else's game; especially they're game.

They are always watching, keep an eye out.-Ha ha...Russia is funny, da?

Love,

Russia"

America read to himself, it made his heart ache and made him partially irritated. He read over it again, something catching his eye. At the edge of the paper, was a red stain...'blood.' Alfred heard the sound of glass breaking, the darkness coming to him a third time. He could see everything now, Russia, the bullet, the men dragging away his body. The trail of blood across the carpet, so much blood. Memories flooded his mind, he remembered.

"They were going to replace you, Alfred..." Russia voice rang in his ears, as though hearing it for the first time. "...The sad thing is by that time, no one will notice."

"Ivan!" Alfred exclaimed, shocked by the sudden rush of realized that the Russian he had seen, was not Ivan at all. He was, his replacement. It explained why he was acting so strangely, but what happened to the real Russia? America gulped, his throat dry; "Was he...dead?"

His breathing was heavy, unsure what he would find next. However, Russia said what was in the box would help him- 'of coarse this was Russia...' He sat the paper to his side gentle, under which was something round; a pearly white. Resembling a marble, Alfred lifted the glass ball from the box. Rotating in his hand, startled he dropped it to the ground. A blue eye looked back up at him, it was a glass eye. It was creepy, 'yet it was a gift from Russia.' He thought, bending down to pick it back up.

Alfred hobbled to the bathroom, looking in the mirror. He removed his glasses slowly, he had not seen underneath the patch since the day he had gotten it. 'He avoided looking at it.' The edge of the scar started to reveal itself, as America slide if off.

A line of light pink flesh stretched across the bridge of his nose over his closed eyelid. He let it open, exposing the empty socket. America hated it, ashamed he looked away down to the glass eye in his hand. Washing it off in the sink, thinking it was something that he should do; he had never done anything like this before. 'Of coarse, he was new to the one eye look.' He brought the ball to his face, pushing it into place. There was a slight popping noise(gross), however it did not hurt. America looked back up to his reflection, it matched perfectly. Alfred laughed gleefully, checking himself out. Although he could not see out the eye, the replacement made him happy.

"YA HA! The hero returns!" America said proudly, a hand on his hip. "Now, I will go save the real Russia, and beat the shit out of...who ever...the bad guys are!...Wait, don't you have to be fitted for these kind of things?"

America's smile dissipated, as visions of Russia sticking measurement tools into the eye-socket invaded his mind. 'Damn, he is creepy.' His wonderment soon turned to worry, 'What if, there was no-more Russia? What if Ivan was...'

Alfred took a seat on the closed toilet, getting out his cell phone. He searched around in his emergency contacts, quickly locating Arthur's number. America stopped for a second, eyes wide, before pushing send. 'What if Russia wasn't the only one who had been replaced?'


	13. 13

The phone rang, America waited impatiently for his brother to pick up. He drummed his fingers on his leg in an undecided pattern.

"Alfred! What in bloody hell do you want? You do realize I was in the meeting, if you are well enough to be bugging me, why in God's name did you not just come to the conference!Really, you git! Not to mention the fact my face was plastered all over the entire Internet this morning, the whole world had seen my naked ass...well, go on, tell me what you want to tell me!" England nagged, Alfred did not respond. "Alfred?" Arthur called, slightly concerned by the lack of a reply.

"Arthur, are you..." America started in a whisper, he swallowed the accumulated spit in his mouth.

"Am I what?" England questioned, his concern increasing. There was another long pause.

"Are you a Brain Controlled Zombie Clone, who's mind has been taken over by Secret Government Bad People who want to replace us all?" Alfred blurted out quickly. Arthur was silent, and then sighed.

"What the hell are you blabbering about? You have been watching your weird-ass American movies again, havn't you? I told you they would turn your brain to mush, not saying you had much of one to turn into mush in the first place." England said a little annoyed, yet relieved nothing was wrong with him. 'Except for the fact he was a moron...' When there was once again a trail of awkward quiet, Arthur's worry returned. "Did you...have a bad dream again?"

"No, nothing like that...could you come, please?" America asked, there was sadness in his voice. This was not something England was used to hearing, from his normally over excided little brother, it frightened him. He had even said, please.

"Sure, I will be there soon." Arthur replied.

"Thanks Arthur..." Alfred said, "I'm glad I have you." The words were dry, and strained. It was hard for America to say what he felt, and right now he really was happy someone cared about him. On the other end of the phone England was almost in tears, 'why'd he have to say stuff like that? Damn Wanker...'

"Yeah, yeah." Arthur said unevenly.

"Dude, your such a cry baby!" America asked, bursting out in laughter.

"No, I-I was just yawning! " England lied, 'badly.'

"Right..." Alfred remarked. The chuckles continued to go through the phone, Arthur's face went red.

"I'm not crying!" England yelled, a stream running down his face. Quickly he wiped it with his sleeve.

"It's like the third time this week!" America added, his side was beginning to hurt. He heard the receiver beeping, England had hung up. Alfred smiled, closing the phone and sticking it back into his pocket. Remembering he was still in his clothing from last night, he wanted to change. He got up and went back into the room to his suitcase.

England had rushed to the hotel, stopping only once to pickup fast-food for Alfred. He had figured America had not eaten yet that day. Switching the large soda cup to the other hand, he knocked on the room door. There was a loud thud from inside.

"Alfred?" Arthur called, knocking on the door once more.

"Hold on!" America replied, England waited impatiently, checking how much time had passed on his wrist watch. There was a small click, the knob turned and the door swung open. Alfred was half-naked, his pants stuck on his cast and shirt undone. The filled eye-socket caught his attention, the scar making his stomach twist. England blushed and looked away, clearing his throat.

"Could you help me?" America asked, struggling to not fall. Arthur sighed heavily, and helped the big buffoon get dressed. When finished they took a seat on the bed, England sat the bag of food in America's lap.

"Here, I brought you this...I know you can't go long without one." England said, avoiding Alfred's gaze.

"YaHOO!" America exclaimed, digging into the brightly colored bag. Quickly he tore off the wrapper, shoving a hamburger into his mouth. "Mm-ank Mm-ou." He mumbled between chews, when America ate, it was always disturbing.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, Mannerless Moron!" England scolded, he held the soda out to him. America stopped munching for a minute, gulping down a drink. He crammed in the last of the meal and sipped on the straw noisily. It did not take long for him to finish it off, handing the trash back to Arthur.

"That was great!" America said, patting England on the back. He winced, Alfred clearly did not know his own strength. Arthur bit down on his tongue, trying his best not to yell at his little brother for leaving the stinging hand mark on his backside.

"Well, I am glad you enjoyed it." England replied, sarcasm in his voice. "Now, why the hell am I here? You seem fine to me." There was an awkward feeling between the two, America coughed to fill the silence. He leaned in close to Arthur's ear, putting a hand to his ear.

"I think Russia has been replaced by a Russian Zombie Clone, or worse, an Alien from Area 51." America whispered in a serious tone. England blinked a few times, then pushed Alfred away from him.

"What makes you think this?" Arthur chuckled, crossing his arms.

" 'cause he got shooted in the chest last night! I'm serious, Russia was telling me that they were planning to replace me, and BANG, someone shot him through the window! Then I woke up this morning with an imposter Russia in my room, look they even replaced my caste!" America said quickly, England barely kept up.

"I bet it was a dream Alfred, you drank last night." Arthur advised.

"No, it wasn't! Look, read this, it's a note from Russia!" Alfred got the small piece of paper from the end-table, handing it to England. Arthur read it over thoroughly, worry growing on his face. He looked up at Alfred who eyed him eagerly, he was angry and appalled.

"Why was Russia in your room, I thought you were sharing with France?" England asked, oblivious to the changing of rooms.

"France traded with Italy, and Italy Traded with him." Alfred replied.

"I'm going to kill that perverted wanker!" Arthur said, angrily.

"It doesn't matter, we have to go save him and stop the bad guys!" America blurted, enthusiastically. "I know it wasn't him this morning! He said that he had condoms in the little black box, but last time he did not even bother with a condom when he raped me after beating the shit out of me!" The words made England's heart stop. His face was red, crumbling the paper in his hand. He grabbed Alfred by the hair, pulling his head down to be level with his-own.

"Alfred F. Jones, that man almost...k-killed you and he...did th-that to you. Even if this is all true, why the Hell should you help him?" Arthur yelled, he ran his teeth together. 'Bloody Git.' England had felt so blind, why could he not notice. Not only that, he had traded rooms with Russia first...

"Because, I'm a hero." America said simply, England released him.

"I'm not saying I believe you, but I will help you sort stuff out. First, however, you need to tell me everything."


	14. Chapter 14

After a very long, uncensored, version of America's story, 'filled with numerous errors in punctuation'; Arthur was speechless.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" England asked, a little hurt.

"Because, I-I was too ashamed of what you would think, this kind-of thing only happens to weakling...heroes are not suppose to lose." Alfred said, looking at the floor. Arthur smacked the back of his head.

"Bugger." England said, then wrapped his arms around the larger nation. "Your such a pain, like I would ever think you were weak...losing, can make you stronger."

"You only say that, because you lose all the time. Plus, when you lose, I think your a weakling." America exclaimed. Arthur was offended slightly, but continued to hug his brother. "So, I take it, because your hanging all over me, you believe me?" America asked, England let go of him and folded his arms.

"Not entirely. I am going to call Russia, and ask him some questions." Arthur said, getting out his phone. America snatch his hand, preventing him from opening it. "What the Hell!"

"No, you can't! They will find out..." Alfred said, his voice decreasing to a whisper. Suddenly the phone in England's hand began to vibrate, they both jumped. Arthur pulled himself away from America, and answered.

"Hello?" England said, America strained his ears, trying to hear the other end. "Yes, fine...I am on my way." He closed the phone, tucking it safely away. "Someone from the agency called, says that a representative is waiting down in the lobby. I have to go."

"What agency?" Alfred asked, paranoid.

"I don't know, some kind of new government agency. They need to be approved before they are official, been trying to get ahold of me for weeks." England sighed, throwing the bag of trash in the wastebasket. "It should not take long, I will be back."

"Wait, let me go with you." America said, in a pleading voice. He looked at Arthur hopeful, pouting his lip. England avoided his puppy-dog eyes, but he was no match.

"Arg...fine! But, you are using a wheelchair!" Arthur exclaimed, Alfred grunted in disgust , but nodded.

Arthur headed downstairs, pushing America in front of him. The hallway walls were a yellowish white, the carpet covered in a hideous un-matching pattern. England pressed the button to the elevator, the doors opened and they entered. America hummed along with the music being played, somehow turning the pleasant sound into something horrid. 'He was tone death.'

England looked at him cross, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. You would think the spot would be bare, considering he did this at least 50 times when with his brother. 'America annoyed the hell out of him.' The elevator stopped, the doors opened. They exited the elevator, America still singing along to the now ruined symphony.

The lobby was almost empty, only a few workers remained behind the main desk. America recognized a few from the night before. England wheeled him over to a magazine rack, Arthur selected something from the shelf and sat it in Alfred's lap. 'It was a Dr. Sues coloring book.' America glared up at England.

"You can't be a part of the meeting, so wait here. I will be right over there, then after we will sort all this out." England said, pointing to a table across the room. A man was waiting at the table, a woman standing behind him. They were both dressed in black, wearing large black sunglasses. 'So cliche...'

"Dude are you blind, those guys are clearly bad guys!" America said.

"Everyone from the government looks like that!" Arthur pointed out, he was right, Alfred could not deny that; it was true

"Fine, hurry." America said, defeated. England walked away going to the table where the two agency representatives were.

Alfred watched closely, as they greeted one another. The woman was not too shabby looking; in fact, she was down right sexy. Her hair was a light brown pulled tightly into a bun, lips red. He imagined her voice, trickled with a hot English accent. A mellow tone, deep, yet feminine. 'He'd tap that.' America could hear England laughing ('stupidly') nervously as he shook her hand, 'he was so uncool.'

As Arthur had stated, the meeting did not last long. He sighed a paper and said his farewells, parting as they had met. Alfred saw England check out the woman's butt as she left, 'horny old man.' America was much more subtle, looking over top the 'upside-down,' Dr. Sues book. England walked back to Alfred, dazed.

"You get what chick's number, what's her name?" America interrogated.

"Misty, and she is a proper English-lady. Such women do not go for vulgar hill-jacks, such as yourself." England said.

"Dude, Florida is larger than your entire landmass." Alfred gloated, with a smirk.

"Shut-Up!" Arthur exclaimed, taking a seat in one of the oversized armchairs. "It has nothing to do with the size it is about how you use it, DICK FOR BRIANS!"

"Excuse me?" Came a quiet voice of a female.

They both looked in the direction of origin, the woman called Misty had returned. She removed her sunglasses, exposing deep green eyes. England stood up quickly, fumbling his cell into his pocket, 'accidentally slipping it in his underwear instead.' The woman was taller than him, America smirked.

" Mr. England can I speak with you in private...there is one more thing I would like to go over. If you are not busy..." The woman said, giggling.

"Oh, yes. I can spare a few more moments." Arthur said, face glowing red from embarrassment. America winked at the woman, she giggled again walking with Arthur outside. The clicks of her high-heeled shoes echoed softly, Alfred sighed, waiting patiently for his brothers return.


	15. Chapter 15

Shortly after parting, England entered back into the hotel. He looked over at America, a strange look upon his face. Immediately Alfred could tell something was wrong with him. Arthur walked to him, a nervous glance over his shoulder. It was not like Arthur to act paranoid, 'that was more of America's thing.'

"What's up with you?" America asked, a bit paranoid himself. England flashed a glare down at him, his lips up-curled into a slightly sinister smile. He leaned into Alfred.

"You are next." He whispered, although the voice was not of his brother, but of the woman England had left with. 'She' stood up straight, adjusting 'her' jacket. The smile faded and she walked back out the entrance.

America was dumbfounded, a feeling of deep anguish. His brother had been taken from right under his nose, 'and replaced with a chick.' It hurt, his heart wrenching from under his t-shirt. Putting that aside, wheeling up to the main desk.

"Can I help you young man?" The old woman asked.

"Yes, is there a pair of scissors I can borrow?" He asked, his voice was intimidating. Without a word, the old woman handed a pair to him. America thanked her and went to the bathroom.

Thankfully it was empty, he locked the door behind himself. Slipping one of the blades underneath the edge of the cast, he began to cut through. Splitting the cast down the center. He pried the two pieces apart, revealing his leg. It was still a nasty purple where the break had happened. Painfully lifting his leg out, Alfred let the empty cast fall to the floor. He pulled his pant leg over the bruise, switching his attention to his arm. Quickly able to remove the smaller cast with ease.

He stood up carefully, his bare foot making contact with the tile. Regaining his composer, America took a deep breath. Then left the bathroom, leaving the wheelchair behind. Exiting back into the main lobby where many nations were returning from the meeting.

"America?" France called, hurrying over to Alfred. "What are you doing?" He questioned.

"Nothing." America answered quickly. France looked at him strangely.

"What happened to your cast?" He asked.

"I went...and had it...Dry Cleaned!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Alfred, I am not Arthur...can you please explain your stupidity?" France sighed.

"No time, I have to go find Eng-g...My Shoe!"

Alfred walked away to the elevator, getting in before the door shut. He went back to his room, digging around in his suitcase for his other running shoe.

"Found it!" He said happily, shoving it on his foot.

"Did you now, da?" Coed a fimilar voice from behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as America finished tying his shoe lace. He got up off his knees and turned to face the man in the doorway.

"I see you have been digging through my things." The replacement Russia said, tapping a finger to indicate his eye. Determined not to be intimidated, by the large Russian Imposter. 'Russia' took a few steps forward, Alfred stood his ground glaring.

"Who are you?" America asked, the man stopped.

"I am Russia." He said with a cheeky grin.

"Where is my brother?" Alfred demanded. 'Russia' chuckled, then walked closer. He lifted America's chin with his gloved hand.

"It would be a shame if I had to pop the other one out, da?" He said, examining America's good eye. Alfred pushed the Imposter out of his way, leaving the room. He removed his phone, dialing the smartest person he knew.

"This is Japan, I appreciate your call and I apologize greatly for the inconvenience of not being avaliable at this time..."

"Damn, I got the machine." America mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Asked Japan from the other end. 'It was not a recording.'

" Kiku! Thank Uncle Sam I got ahold of you!"

"Thank you...Uncle Sa..." Japan started, before Alfred began spazzing again.

"Listen, I serious need your help like really fucking bad!" Alfred interrupted. "England is now a chick!"

"Uh, well they do have those k-kind of surgeries available now days..." Japan stuttered, embarrassed.

"What? No, he has been switched to this hot sexy chick!" America explained, 'poorly.'There was no answer from the other end. Alfred could hear Japan talking to someone nervously.

"Your bro....*cough*...England is here and asks to speak with you." Japan said quietly.

"Put the bastard on." Alfred hissed, gripping the phone tightly.

"Hello, Alfred." The imitation England greeted.

"Why don't you use your phone, 'brother.'" America mocked.

"I must have misplaced it somewhere when I had that unfortunate accident earlier. Perhaps I dropped it in the trunk of the car when I was stuffed that useless shit into it? I will go back and do a thorough inspection later, I will have to change first. I would hate for my nice suit to get dirty." Replied the replacement. "Have a nice day Alfred."

The phone went dead, America was outraged. Terrified his brother may be hurt, or worse. If anything happened to him, he would kill her, he would kill them all.

Leaving the hotel, Alfred went for a walk to cool off. After walking a few blocks he took a seat on an old bench. Popping a few more pain pills into his mouth, he leaned back against the rotting wood and looked to the sky. It was a deep blue, large fluffy clouds moved slowly across the canvas. 'Maybe Arthur still had his phone, if the Alien didn't...'

America got his phone out and dialed for his brother, it rang once then picked up. There was a rustling noise, then it ended. Surprised that someone had answered the call from the other end, Alfred sat up and tried the number again. When nothing happened, he continued calling. 'Over, and over, and over, and over, and over...'

"Bloody Hell Alfred, how many times do you have to call?" Whispered England. "Hush." he hissed, there was a clinging noise from the receiver. America could hear an unfamiliar male voice mumble, he could not tell if it was British or not. England answered inaudibly, then he began to speak into the phone again. "Alfred you were right, something is going on. They are based everywhere, they want to control the world."

"Where are you? Are you Okay?" America asked, his heart racing.

"I don't know, some kind of makeshift jail. It is really dark, and damp, perhaps a basement? I can't see a thing, there are no windows. Russia is here too, they have him muffled."

"Are you Okay? Is Ivan?" Alfred demanded.

"Yes, I'm fine...Russia too." England said.

"H-how bad is he?" America asked, hanging his head. He moved his free hand through his hair.

"When they put me in, I only saw him a glimpse of him. It was for a moment when they put me in, so I do not know." Arthur replied.

"Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine."

"I did not ask if you were fine, I asked if they have hurt you?"

"I told you, I'm fi..."

"God Dammit, Arthur! Have They Hurt You?" America yelled.

"What was that?" A man voice said from a distance from the phone. There was more rustling, Alfred heard the phone drop to the ground. A sound of a fire engine echoed softly in the background. "Well, well, well, look here. Seems the midget is ordering pizza for us." The same man said, laughter followed.

"Bloody Git! Get your hands off of m..." England cried, followed by a loud crunch. The phone went dead, Alfred let his arm drop, closing the phone in his hand. 'Shit.'


	16. Chapter 16

America sat on the bench, feeling as hopeless as ever. His leg throbbed, his heart ached, and more-over his closest friend was probably getting the shit beaten out of him because of his big mouth. Alfred watched as a fire truck flew past, its lights flashing. The cars on the street pulled over, letting it pass without interference. Suddenly, he jolted up and began to walk in the direction the truck had come.

Previously on the phone, he had heard the sound of a fire engine. Surly, it must have been the one he had just seen. Thus meaning location of Arthur and Ivan were close. America swiftly walked, determined to find them. It was his duty, as a hero, to stop the bad people and save the distressed.

Passing building after, building, he decided to start asking if anyone had seen the woman who had taken England's place. He stopped an older gentleman with a mustache.

"Excuse me, Sir. Have you seen a hot British woman dressed in black, along with a man. They might be wearing sunglasses. She has brown hair pulled into a bun, red lips, really nice ass, the kind that makes you say, 'Damn, I'd tap that'?' America asked, 'politely?'

"Uh, no young man. I have not, sorry." He answered, walking away quickly.

After asking a few more people(147), 'and scarring away a troop of girl scouts', America took a seat on the stoop of an abandoned building. The outside was covered in graffiti. He had unknowing wandered into the bad side of town. The sun was beginning to go down, it would be dark soon. A group of people walked by, one glaring at Alfred. Even know America was dressed in casual clothing, it was clear that he did not belong here. He sighed, removing his glasses to wipe them clean.

"Hey four eyes." A male voice called, Alfred looked up from his specs. A boy, early 20's, stood in front of him. He was dressed in baggy pants and an oversized shirt. A large necklace hung around his neck in the shape of a cross.

"Is there a problem?" America asked, hesitating to replace his glasses.

"This is Dogg Packs territory, they find you here there will be trouble." The boy warned, pointing. America turned around and saw the gangs logo on the door. An evil looking eye with the letters DP over it. Alfred smiled and looked back to the boy, it seemed America was quit good at wandering into others' territories. He pushed his glasses back on.

"Is that so?" He said sarcastically.

"Yeah, they aint nothin to dis. They been working with the gov' lately, I've seen 'um all come up in this hood with their fancy cars and shit. Saw 'um bring a body up in here las' night, look like they was from the Matrix." The boy explained.

"Really? To this building, are you sure?" America asked, excitedly.

"Yeah, they been comin' back every hour or so, speaking in weird languages and shit." He said, surprised by his interest.

"Do you know a way inside? To the basement?" Alfred said, standing up quickly.

"They go 'round back." The boy answered.

"Thanks!" America thanked, walking around the building.

"Wait! You crazy man, your gonna get yourself shot!" The man called after, Alfred ignored him and continued to go around. The grass was high and thick, broken glass lined the ground. America hurried through it, looking for an entrance. Finally he found a make-shift door covering a hole in the side. He carefully pushed it away, it was dark. A crumbling staircase traveled downwards. America fished into his pocket, getting out his set of keys. One of his key-chains was shaped as a panda, 'China had gotten him it as a get well present.' He pinched it and a small beam of light shined down the stairway. A red dried liquid stained the steps, America hoped it was paint. Alfred took a step inside, replacing the wood behind him.

He walked slowly, it was not long before he reached the bottom. The room was freezing, Alfred huddled his arms together. The floor was covered in dirt, lots of empty cans and bottle littered the floor. America stepped over them and continued, he stopped and shined the light all around the room. It was filled with empty dog cages and boxes. A large bloody wooden frame was in the corner, clearly dog fighting had been going on. Alfred continued to search, walking in farther past the boxes. He heard a clanging noise, he shined the light in the direction. His eyes fixated on a metal chain kennel in the far corner, he hurried over to it.

"Arthur?" He cried, shinning the light inside. The ground had turned to mud, his feet sinking in. The door was locked insecurely.

In the center of the cage, was a metal support beam. Around it where several large iron linked chains secured with bicycle key locks. He followed one of the chains with the light, it leading to the left hand corner.

Arthur was strapped to the side of the cage naked, his hands tied sprawled. He was on his knees, his ankles fastened to his thighs by thick rope. England's mouth was covered with duck tape, the large chain wrapped around his neck. It made him hunch over from the weight.

"Arthur!" America yelled, quickly unlocking the door and rushing over. He dropped to his knees into the cold mud. Water droplets ran down the side of Arthur's bruised face from his hair, his eyes wide with surprise. Alfred took hold of the edge of the tape, pulling it off.

"Ouch!" England , he moved his jaw around.

"Arthur!" America said happily, he wrapped his arms around his brother. England was wet, America could fell his shirt soaking up the water. "I'm so happy your okay."

"Um, do you have to do that while I am like this." England said, blushing. "Not that I am ungrateful for you coming here. Who else did you bring? France, Japan...Canada?"

"Oh, no. I came by myself." America replied, backing off.

"Where is your cast?" Arthur asked concerned.

"Oh, I took those off." Alfred replied, almost forgetting about the pain in his leg.

"This is why the others think your Mentally Retarded." Arthur sighed, he would have punched him if he could. Alfred smiled and then noticed England was shivering, his lip quivered. America removed his shirt and began to dry England's hair.

"Where is Ivan?" America asked looking around.

"Gone, they moved him a few hours ago." Arthur replied, soothed by the warmth of his brother's body heat still lingering on the t-shirt.

"Why are you wet...and naked?" Alfred asked, wiping the water drops off his brother's cheek. Arthur cleared his throat and avoided eye contact.

"That woman took all my clothing..." England said, uncomfortably, avoiding the rest of the question.

"Even your underwear?" America questioned.

"I-I really don't want to talk about it." England stuttered.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault, I am such a moron." America apologized, he felt guilty about getting England caught. There was no doubt this was his punishment for the telephone incident, not stopping him from being taken in the first place.

"Yes, you are a bloody moron. However, this is not your fault. You told me to be wary, I did not listen." Arthur said. "I need you to go and get help. They will be moving me soon as well, so hurry."

"But, I don't want to leave you." Alfred whined, he pulled away his shirt.

"You have no choice. Even if you managed to untie the ropes, there is no way you could undo the lock. Not to mention, I am naked." England said, wishing he had not stopped touching him. His body began to shiver again, he could feel the goose-bumps returning to his arms. The sound of footsteps made them both jump. "There back, go hide somewhere. When they leave, I want you to head back to the others and get help. Don't you dare make a peep, got it?" Arthur whispered.

"But..."

"Go." England hissed, America obeyed, quickly leaving the kennel and finding a hiding spot behind one of the large boxes. He released the panda, everything going dark. The sound of footsteps approached closer, a ray of light shinning on the dusty floor.


	17. Chapter 17

Alfred watched from hiding as three people emerged from the top of the staircase. They talked softly amongst each-other as they walked past him. Making there way to the kennel in the far corner, they shined the light inside. Spotlighting there restrained captive.

"How you feeling, mate?" One teased in a fake British accent, the others giggled.

"Dude, we muzzled him, remember?"

"Awe, that's too bad..." The shortest of the men undid the door and walked over to England, his head was down hiding his face. "What's this?" The man asked.

He bent down and head up something that had been soaking in the mud. In the glow of the flashlight it was revealed to be an American Eagle t-shirt. America had forgotten to take it with him in his hast.

"Looks like someone came to visit." One of the others called out.

"Oh yeah, the cross-dresser told us to watch out for his boyfriend." The short one said thoughtfully. "No doubt he's been here. Couldn't resist you all exposed like this, could he?"

'Must be into bondage."

They all laughed loudly, waiting for some-type of reaction. When there was none, the man inside the kennel snatched Arthur's hair. Alfred could barely keep himself from attacking them, he held his hand over his mouth stopping himself from intervening. England glared up at the man fiercely.

"Look, the tape is gone. Did he have you suck him off too?" Asked the man chuckling.

"Disgusting Perverted Wanker!" Arthur insulted, spitting into the man's face. The man outraged, punched him in the stomach. England gasped, eyes clinched in pain.

"Know your place, bitch." The man hissed, grabbing onto England's fringe again. America's finger nails dug into the side of his face, the only thing keeping him in hiding.

"You know Jay, you said you were looking for a new bitch. You should bring in your dogs." One man said from the door to the man inside.

"You're right, perhaps I should go get them. Of coarse we'd have to change your position." The man called Jay said to England.

"Bloody Gi..Mmh, mmmmh!" Arthur started, but the man had stuffed the filthy shirt into his open mouth. He gagged as it was forcefully shoveled down his throat.

"Naw, from what I heard about your boyfriend, there's a good chance you caught something. I can't have you passing it on to my champs." The short man replied spitting down at him. "However, they might be in need of some target practice." All the men laughed loudly. "You guys go get the dogs, I will wait here and relocate the whinny brit."

The two men at the door, headed back up the staircase, while the other began to untie England from the chain-link enclosure, re-tying Arthur's hands behind his back. The man went to work on unlocking the chain wrapped around the support beam, connected to Arthur's neck. England looked over to Alfred who was hiding behind the boxes. There eyes met, Arthur telling him silently to leave. America shook his head, he was not going to leave his brother like this.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" Asked the man. He had managed to get the chain off, yanking England with it. Arthur wobbled forward on his knees, his feet tethered to his thighs making it hard to keep balance. The man looked about him, searching for what had taken England's attention.

"What is going on here?" A familiar voice called. The woman impersonating England stood at the bottom of the stairs with a small latrine, the replacement Russia behind her.

"We were going to give him to the dogs." The man replied with a smile.

"Your men we passed said that the American Idiot showed." The female said looking around, America hunched down closer to the ground on his hands and knees.

"Yeah, but he's most likely long gone by now."

"I doubt it. The Englishman is not a moron, if they had time then he would have made sure that the tape had been replaced. Plus the shirt would have been taken with him as well, that way we would have had no idea he had came. Meaning the American is still here." The woman said quickly, still scanning with her eyes. The Russian was searching as well.

Alfred had begun to crawl along the boxes, away from his previous spot.

"No surprise if he is listening to everything we are saying, of coarse I cannot say if he understands." She added with a snicker. "Good idea with the dogs, that will definitely snuff him out. Besides, I enjoy a good show. Make sure you take the gag out, I want to hear him scream." She added, cruelty in her voice.


	18. Chapter 18

England was moved to the dog fighting ring, seen when America had first came. Alfred was determined to punch the 'shit' out of the 'tranny bastard', even if she was 'fucking hot'. He watched from a small space between two of the wooden crates. England was chained to the wall, the shirt yanked from his mouth. Arthur coughed and gasped. Alfred began to plan his attack strategy in his head. Like most of the ideas he came up with, 'it was half-ass and poorly advised.'

"Start screaming now, and we can skip the dogs." The English woman cooed.

"Never." England said hoarsely.

The female England impersonator smiled, then handed the latrine to her Russian lackey. She lifted her foot high, slamming it down on Arthur's jewels. He hissed out in pain as she began to twist.

"I wonder how the American feels about this?" The woman said coaxing. She relieved him, then hunched down to her captives level.

"Nasty Git!" Arthur yelled.

"Hush..." She said putting a finger to her lips, then began to circle his chest.

America could not stand it any longer, he burst out of hiding holding his panda key-chain out in front of him.

"Hold it right there stupid ' conasspirinratating' vampire bastards!" Alfred exclaimed. The light from the small flashlight was shined in the Russian's face.

All three of them looked at him strangely, not one knowing what the hell he just said.

"What language was that?" The man asked the Russian. The Russian shrugged and all three of them looked to England for an answer.

"I think he means, 'conspiring'." England explained.

"So, is he actually retarded?" The replacement Russia whispered.

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself." Arthur sighed. The woman got up and turned towards America. She pulled a gun from her pocket and pointed it at Alfred's face.

"I don't think you thought this over." The woman said laughing, America smiled back.

"Like shooting me will do anything!" Alfred said chuckling.

"No, it may not harm you. However, can your brother survive a bullet to the brain in his condition?" The woman asked. She swung the gun back to the battered Englishman. Arthur avoided eye contact, humiliated by the degrading situation. America lost his smile and dropped the keys to the ground. "You, tie the Idiot up." She commanded, the men did as they were told. Clearly the British woman was the ring leader.

America was pushed down next to England. Arthur glared at him out of the corner of his one of his bruised eyes. Alfred was silent. He knew that England was unhappy with him for blowing his cover.

The female pulled her phone from her coat, 'or rather England's', and began to speak with someone on the other line. "Go ahead and send him down, I want Alfred to meet him...before, you know." She shut the cell, and smiled. A man appeared walking down the steps, he was tall and well built.

"Mother Fuckers!" America insulted, wiggling in his ropes. The man had an uncanny resemblance to himself, it had to be his replacement.

"Yo!" The fake America replied.

"Bastards, Evil Nazis, Ass Fucks, Fuckers, Shit Ass Fucker ZOMBIES!" Alfred yelled.

"He has a dirty mouth, don't he?" Replacement America laughed, he walked over to Alfred and took his glasses. Then he preceeded to place them on his own nose. Alfred's scar was fully exposed, his glasses had nearly covered it. "Nice scar, by the way. It makes you look distinguished." He added, tracing his finger over the light pink flesh.

"Bastard." America snarled, moving his head away.

"Alright then, I've had enough of this stupidity. Move the Brit first, then the American...best gag the idiot. I don't think the Englishman will talk, unless he wants a repeat of last time?" The woman said. She smiled wickedly down at England. He turned his head away.

"Don't threaten my brother!" America cried out, he wormed in the restraints.

"I have done allot more than just threaten him, believe me."

"What does that me..." Alfred asked, looking at Arthur.

"Shut-it Alfred, it does not matter." Arthur interrupted him, cheeks flushed.

"Oh, and Alfred?" The woman said suddenly. America's focus went back to the devil lady. "Try anything and I won't hesitate putting holes in your delightful brother."

After being forcefully gaged and drug up the staircase, America and England were thrown into the back of a freezer truck. A thick bared gate locked them into a section of the massive freezer. The floor was layered in a sheet of ice that the two nations sat upon. It was dark and the motion from the ride bumped them around violently.

Red skinned, naked, and nearly frost bitten, Arthur hunched his legs to his chest for warmth.

"Bloody moron, I swear your brain is none existent!" England scolded. His body ached against the cold. America looked over to his shivering brother, England's nose was beginning to run. Alfred's mouth had been taped shut, if not for that he would have defended himself.

He scooched across the truck behind him and wrapped his legs around England. Alfred leaned into his back, sharing body heat. His head nuzzled upon Arthur's shoulder. England melted against him, then remembering his own nakedness, struggled to get away.

"For god sakes America, I am naked! Don't do such things while I am like this, actually, never do anything like this ever!" England exclaimed, wrestling with America's legs. Somehow Alfred had ended up on top of him, sitting on Arthur's stomach.

"Get off you git." He said, unconvincingly. In truth, he wished Alfred would have stayed. Although they were in a freezer, America had not lost his warmth. Alfred got off his brother obediently.

Breaking free from America's grasp, England looked back over his shoulder at Alfred's worried face.

"I-I am fine, big loon." Arthur managed to say, giving a fake grin. "Really, I am serious. I have been in worse situations than this! Plus, I am sure the others suspect something is up. Surely somebody will come." England said.

America looked at England doubtfully. He hated seeing his brother lie, and so poorly. Arthur watched Alfred close his eyes in thought. Somehow the younger nation looked unusually grown up. It was strange to see him this way. America was shirt-less. After awhile of watching England could tell the cold was beginning to effect America. Arthur could see goose-bumps appear on his brother's arms. Arthur would not have his brother freeze to death, because of his own discomfort.

"Alfred." England sighed, 'at least he could save him.' America's eyes opened and made contact with Arthur. "We, uh, have to save body heat. So, um, even though I said not to...lets..." Arthur said.

America was surprised, but moved over to England and leaned against him. Back to back the two sat. It was not as warm as the other position had been, but more 'proper', according to England. England knew his own condition was only worsening. Soon he would lose consciousness, but at least he could do this much.

America quickly fell asleep against England quietly, he heard Arthur mumble something.- 'He'd ask him what he said later.'

Alfred awoke finding himself on his side. Hours had past since he had fallen asleep, he sat up. England laid beside him sleeping, his body still. Lips half parted. America nudged him with his leg. He did not move. Alfred kicked him with his foot, again there was no response. Freaking a little, America used his feet to push England. England rolled over to his stomach, limp.

Alfred struggled with the ropes on his hands, yanking as hard as he could to get free. They cut into him painfully, but he could not have cared less. Finally he managed to get one hand free and ripped the gag from his mouth.

"Arthur!" America cried rolling England to his back, laying his head in his lap. Blood dripped from the open wound on America's wrist. Alfred brushed Arthur's bangs from his face. It was pale, his expression frightfully peaceful.

America checked his pulse, it was faint but he was still alive. Alfred scooped England up and hugged him close. He moved his hands up and down on Arthur's back helping to circulate blood.

"Arthur, I won't let you die." Alfred said, determination in his voice.


	19. Chapter 19

The back of the truck opened. It was night time, the wind howled. A flashlight was shined inside. Two bound figures laid side by side, half buried in frost. One of them was fully naked, the other his chest bare.

"Hey Joe I think they are dead!" A Scottish man cried out to another.

Another man appeared beside him. He was dark skinned and very tall.

"Go check their vitals." The man said.

After handing off the flashlight, the Scottish man hopped into the truck. He unlocked the gate, and stepped inside. Walking over to the largest of the two bodies and pressed his fingers to his neck. Waiting a few seconds he looked up from the body and shook his head. He could feel no pulse.

"Well get the shovels, we'll move the little one first." The man sighed.

The tall man left the truck leaving the other standing alone in the dark. His back turned on the two frozen bodies. The man looked out into the cool night air, the moon was high in the sky. It was nearly midnight by the looks of it. A noise from behind startled the man, then something grabbed him from behind. A hand wrapped firmly around his nape, his gun that had been taken from its holster was being shoved into the small of his back.

"Hey 'Scotty', make a sound I'll kill you." A man whispered from behind. "Now, you are going to give me your clothes and then hand me the keys. Got it?"

The Scottish man did what he was told. Quickly he removed his clothing and turned around to give the keys to the figure. It was the tallest of the men who laid in the truck, the other man was held limp under his arm. The man held the gun level to the other's chest. His lips were blue, his piercing eyes matching in color. Quickly the man who was thought to be dead, collected his demands and locked the Scottish man into the freezer behind him as he exited.

Throwing the key far into the surrounding trees, the blonde haired man then wrapped his fallen comrade in the clothes he had taken. Making sure they covered his friend completely, he carried his comrade into the brush. He ran as fast as he could, the low branches tore at his exposed skin. He held the other man close, making sure he was protected as he went deeper into the forest. Finally he collapsed to his knees, his bad leg giving out on him.

He laid his brother down upon the fallen leaves in front of him, panting. The moonlight shinning down on the shrouded figure. Alfred wanted to see him, but he was afraid. Taking in a breathe of cold air, he exhaled and pulled the coat aside. Arthur's head slide to one side, his fringe covering half his face in golden hair. Alfred held his hand up as to touch him, but let it drop to his side in defeat. Arthur's face was a ghostly white, bruises and scraps spread sparsely. He had no expression, no emotion; lifeless. Tears swelled in the American's eyes. They ran off his nose into the creases of the fabric. Alfred gripped at his pant legs, his knuckles turning white.

"A-Arthur?" He cried in a strained voice. "Arthur?"

Then losing all self control he buried his head into his brother's chest and began to sob. He clawed at the thick cloth in anguish. Muffled cries echoed through the treetops, fading in the wind which blew the leafless tree branches. There shadows danced around the two figures in the wood.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not happy with this chapter, just throwing that out there...
> 
> Ah well! Anyways the ending to this story is approaching, so I
> 
> will be updating more frequently.
> 
> ((Past self says, then adds 10+ more chapters of confusing nonsense. lol -Kolxhero-0))

America coughed loudly. He wiped his mouth and looked over his shoulder, tears still falling. Covering England's head back with the coat, America got up from the ground. Again he coughed, he held his chest gasping for air. He bent down and picked Arthur back up, then looked around for a place to go. All Alfred could see was dense forest. Unsure of where he was going, he picked a direction and began to walk. His heavy heart was slowing him down.

'It's my fault', Alfred thought. His body was sluggish in its movement. 'If I wasn't such an idiot, he wouldn't be...'

A rustling from the brush started America, he backed up against a tree. Pulling the gun from his pocket, he pointed it fiercely at the moving bush.

"Come out or I will shoot!" Alfred demanded, he was not playing around anymore.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" Whinnied a familiar voice, though America could not place it. A straggly figure stood up from the bushes, his hands high. His glasses gleamed in the moonlight, his ashy blonde hair slight messy. Pieces of stick stuck out from every direction, one very long hair curled down in his face.

"Who are you again?" America asked.

"I'm Canada! Your brother, Matthew?" The man said, nearly disappearing. Alfred dropped the gun and went to his knees and began hacking. Relieved it was just 'Paul'. "Alfred, me and France are here to help you. Francis was being cowardly again, so he is driving get away car. Are you the only one out here? Did you come from the compound? Where is Arthur?" Canada asked.

America starred into nothing for a moment, holding the pile of clothes that contained his brother close. Alfred shook his head slowly, then began silently crying. Matthew noticed the shape of the clothing he held, clearly England was wrapped inside. He gasped and went to his older brother's side. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder in comfort, a tear escaping his own eye.

"Let me see! Did you check his pulse? Is he still breathing?" Canada said, pulling at Alfred's arms.

"Its my fault." Alfred stated.

"No it is not! It is those bastard's fault, the ones who replaced you. Let me see him!" Canada defended, he could not get Alfred to let go. America shook his head in disagreement.

"No, I was a moron and now Arthur is d-dead." America stuttered, the words made his heart sting. Matt stopped prying and looked at his brother wide eyed.

"Shut up! No brother of mine is going to say such things! I'm calling France, maybe it isn't too late." Matt exclaimed he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone. Dialing the number quickly. "France, I found Alfred and Arthur. Arthur is ...hurt pretty bad. We will meet you by the road." Canada hung up and looked back to America who was coughing into his hand. "Come on."

America followed Matthew through the trees still carrying England. Canada had offered to take him, but Alfred refused. After a few minutes of walking they exited out onto a small dirt path. A black car was parked down the road a little ways, it pulled up beside them.

"So what is wrong with 'Eyebrows?'" France said playfully. Matt shook his head, but was too late in stopping him from saying it. America was still starring off in space. Then Francis saw the covered body, immediately knowing who it belonged to. He looked at Canada shocked, Matthew looked away. "Come on. We will take him for some help." France said solemnly, knowing it was probably nothing that could be done by there expressions.

Canada opened the car door. With upmost care, America slide England into the back seat. Matthew got into the passenger side and shut the door. Alfred stood unsure what he was going to do, Russia was around in this forest somewhere. He could not leave him, but he could not abandon England. America did not get into the car, he shut the door softly.

"Are you mad? Get in the car!" France yelled.

"Which way is the compound?" Alfred asked.

"What?"

"Where is it?"

"Over there, but..." France pointed. "IDIOT, GET BACK HERE!"

America ran away not allowing the rest of Francis's words touch his ears. He was going to save Russia. There would be no more deaths of nations, not tonight.

Alfred gripped the handgun in his pocket. He approached the side of the prison like compound. It was large with only a small window high off the ground. Following in the buildings shadow, he walked around trying to find a way in. Rounding the corner a small door sat mid way in the wall. America took caution in looking for guards, yet there were none. He could not help but find this strange. Weirder yet, the door was unlocked and easily pushed aside.

It lead to a brightly lit hallway. Florescent lights buzzing ahead as Alfred stepped inside. The walls were white and lined with rows of numbered doors. The place smelled and looked like a hospital. Again, no-one seemed to be around. America walked down the hallway checking in the windows of all the doors as he went. He had to find Russia and get the hell out of this place.

Quickly approaching footsteps startled him, as he rounded the corner of the hallway. It was Russia. The Russian stopped, and looked at the smaller nation in surprise. He was completely nude, a gaping hole in his chest. He held some sort of large mechanical device in one hand. Alfred was relieved to have located him so fast.

"Come on, I've come to get you out of here." America said. Russia's facial expression changed to a smile, he swung the object in his hands. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Alfred exclaimed, moving out of the way. He tumbled back into the wall, gripping for support as the object hit a armed guard in the face. It had been standing behind America, about to fire. The man hit the wall next to Alfred, splattering blood.

"So you did come to save me Alfred!" Russia said happily. His face covered in traces of blood, he licked a blot off his lip. Alfred panted heavily trying to regain his composer. "Now. Where is the exit?"

"Dude, if you could just get up and leave like this, why didn't you do it in the first place?" America yelled pointing a finger in the face of the other nation.

"I just wanted to see if you would come save me. You did not disappoint, dah? You are my half naked knight! Although, you are a tad bit late!" Russia replied with a chuckle. 'If America did not get out of his face, he was going to splatter him against the wall too.'

"I really hate you." Alfred said glaring. He folded his arms and sat on the ground.

"Oh, just curious, but your brother would not happen to be with you, would he?" Russia cooed.

"Arthur!" America exclaimed getting back up and heading back from where he had come.

"You're welcome." Russia sing sung.

"Shut it." Alfred yelled back, coughing into his sleeve. He lead them out the door back into the dark. He was uneasy with the massive Russian behind him so close. Although Russia had saved his life twice in only two days, he did not trust him one bit. America was moving very quickly, he wondered why. Russia watched America closely, there was a small limp in his step. Surly his injuries were not completely healed, there was no way.

"Wait a minute Alfred." Russia said. America stopped and turned around. "Your leg, is it bothering you?"

"I'm fine." Alfred lied, startled. He had been hiding the pain for awhile now, it was getting harder to do so.

"I thought for sure the caste would not be ready to come off for another month or so." Russia said smiling. America blushed.

"Shut your trap damn commie! I do believe your the freak walking around with a massive hole in your body! Not to mention your junk is hanging out for the world to see!" America insulted. Enraged, Russia grabbed Alfred's arm and pulled him close. His nose inches from the smaller nation's face. He was in no mood to tolerate the blunt younger nation.

"Your eye looks beautiful tonight." The Russian said. His eyes were intensely starring into America's. "You know your suppose to take this one out and clean it every once in awhile. I will do it for you now, if you'd like?" Russia cooed in a soft voice.

"Get off Creep!" America spit. Russia ignored him and brace him up against a nearby tree trunk. Alfred coughed heavily.

"It is a perfect fit for you. Can barely tell it is not real, dah?" He held the eyelid open wide.

"Don't, please." Alfred said struggling. Russia smiled and leaned closer. He licked the glass eye then traced the scar across America's face. Alfred stopped his struggle, Russia let the lid close.

"Salty." Russia said pulling back. America's expression was unfamiliar to the Russian. He examined it curiously, his smile dropping.

"Please stop, I don't have time for this." Alfred said, his voice raspy. He shut his eyes tightly. He did not want to fight anymore, he was tired of fighting. Russia let him go and backed away, America sunk to the ground. Alfred began coughing again, spitting out a small amount of blood.

"Get on my back, I will carry you." The Russian said in a calm deep voice. America opened his eyes. Russia was bent down to allow him on his back. Saying nothing, Alfred climbed up. He wrapped his arms around Russia's thick neck. "Hold on tight." Russia whispered, then stood.

Russia walked carefully making sure the ride was as smooth as possible for Alfred. He could feel America's warm chest against his back. His heart beating at a soothing rhythm as he worked his way through the trees.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russia's voice is hot...btw...3
> 
> ((I think this might have been posted shortly after English Dub was released? I dunno man. -kolxhero-0))  
> __________________________________________

"Alfred, are we still going the right way?" Russia asked. Alfred had almost fallen asleep against his back.

"Uh, yeah." America said unconvincingly, he coughed softly.

"You do not know, do you?" Russia sighed. However, this did not surprise him. Alfred could barely remember to tie his shoes.

"Y-yeah I do!" Alfred lied, poorly. The Russian stopped walking and put America down on a nearby tree stump. Russia taking a seat in a pile of leaves across from him. "Why did we stop? I said we were going the right way! We have to hurry!" America exclaimed. Russia looked at him and smiled.

"Why are you in such a rush?" The Russian asked, he held his head in his hands. "Arthur is most likely..." Russia said trailing off. America face went strange again. The Russian observed him closely.

"If you are not going, then I'll go by myself!" Alfred said getting up, Russia grabbed his foot keeping him from walking away. "Get off!" America cried. He squirmed, but the Russian would not release.

"I just told you that Arthur was fine." Russia said. Alfred was not telling him something, he pulled on his leg and America fell. He turned away and hid his face. Russia moved closer to see, crawling next to him. Alfred had his face covered with his hands. Russia pulled one away . Tears fell from his eyes, Alfred was crying.

"Back off!" Alfred yelled, pulling his hand away.

"Why are you..." Russia asked quietly.

" 'Cause he's not okay, Okay?... he's..." America explained, but could not finish. The Russian was startled by this news and was not sure what to say. He knew Arthur and Alfred were very close. "I went after Arthur and got captured. Then they brought us here, and along the way...he...j-just...it's all my fault." Alfred sobbed.

Russia watched him cry, he was not sure how to respond. He enjoyed seeing Alfred cry, but only if he was the one causing it.

"I was just t-trying to Help!" Alfred cried. "I'm such an idiot!" He pulled at his hair sobbing. Ivan snatched one of Alfred's hands. "Get off!" America screamed, struggling against the larger nation who held him. The Russian pulled him onto his lap and hugged him tightly.

"Shhhhhh..." Russia hushed, snuggling the man. "No more beating yourself up, that is my job."

America stopped squirming allowing Russia to hold him. Alfred cried softly. The large nation that was usually so cold, seemed unusually warm against his back. He even thought he may have felt a heartbeat.

"Alfred you are cold..." Ivan said still hugging him. Suddenly he remembered the man was naked and began to struggle again.

"Hey! Let go, Humongadick!" Alfred exclaimed.

"I'll take that as a compliment!3" Russia said lovingly, hugging him tighter.

"It wasn't meant as one!" America said. The Russia laughed at him lightly, then let him go. Alfred was surprised he had listened and continued to sit on Ivan's lap for a moment.

"You better move, or I will get 'excited.'" Ivan warned with a smile. Alfred quickly moved, his face blushing. "That's a cute face..." Russia snickered.

"Shut your trap!" America yelled back, wiping away the tears on his cheeks. The sudden outbursts made him go into another coughing spell.

"We should make a fire." Russia said, worried about America's health. Alfred nodded in agreement.

They both gathered wood for the fire and Russia lit it. America warmed his hands sitting across from Russia. The fire burned between them. Ivan hummed a haunting melody, America listened intently. His voice was captivating. Russia stopped and Alfred looked up, he did not want him to stop. Russia was smiling at him.

"Were you enjoying that?" Ivan asked. America face went red and he looked away.

"No." He said, pouting. Alfred yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Sleep." Ivan said and he began to humming again. America watched him through the crackling fire, he starred back at him smiling happily. Without a word, Alfred laid his head down . The melodic tones quickly sending him off to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**(Meanwhile. . .)**

The room was lit well, a swaying light overhead. On the walls hockey memorabilia hung. The smell of pancakes and maple syrup lingered in the air. A man lay sprawled out on a bed, covered in a thick layer of blankets in the center of the room. His hair blonde and eyebrows bushy. He awoke and sat up shivering. Quickly pulling the covers around his bare shoulders.

"Oui! He is awake!" Cried a voice next to him. He looked over to find France sitting next to him in an oversized armchair. Wide eyed he looked around him, another man was standing at his side.

"Arthur...are you okay?..." Asked the other man.

"A-alfred..." England said, teeth clattering. "Where is Alfred?" He exclaimed, trying to get up from the bed. His brothers held him down forcefully.

"Stop it!" France yelled.

"Settle down!" ...uh...?... said. Stopping suddenly, Arthur looked to France.

"He...isn't...d-dead...is he?" England asked terrified.

"No! Now shut up and stop moving! You are going to give yourself a heart-attack...or Matthew one." France ordered. Arthur relaxed a little and laid back down.

"Where is he?" Arthur asked.

"In a forest." Matthew said, calming himself down.

"What? You left that moron alone in a forest?" England scolded.

"He isn't alone. He is with Russia." Canada said softly.

"You left our brother in a forest with that Russian Rapist!" Arthur yelled. "That's who took his eye, you IDIOTS!" Both of his brothers looked at each-other, shamed.

"We have him chipped, it will not take us long to find him..." France said.

"You put a chip in our brother?..." England asked confused.

"Yeah." Canada confirmed.

"What the Hell!" Arthur yelled.

"Y-you have one too..." Matthew mumbled under his breathe.


	23. Chapter 23

Russia sat with Alfred in his lap, he had moved him soon after the younger nation had fallen asleep. He cuddled him in his arms, rocking him began to awake. He could still hear the Russian humming. Opening his eyes he found himself looking up at the treetops. The sky was still dark.

"Sorry if I woke you." Russia said calmingly. America was startled and realized that he was in Russia's lap. He quickly rolled off of him, almost into the fire.

"What the h..." Alfred said, stopping short to cough.

"Shhhhh...You are sick, relax." The Russian cooed, worry in his eyes.

"I'll relax when I'm dead! Damn commie..." America yelled, wiping his mouth with his arm. A scare on his upper arm by his shoulder caught Russia's eye. Ivan snatched Alfred's wrist and examined the scar closely.

"I did not give you this." Russia said, looking over the small incision that seemed to stuck up.

"What?" Alfred asked, looking confused. Russia pressed on the small scar, he could feel something underneath. Ivan's face went dark. "What's wrong?"

"You are being tracked." The Russian explained, his face going into a twisted smile.

"B-by who?" America shouted, pulling his arm away. He rubbed the spot, feeling the chip himself. His eyes went big. "...aliens?..."

"I do not know, but I think we should remove it." Russia shrugged.

"H-how?" Alfred asked, freaked out.

"Hold still." Ivan said, taking back the smaller nation's arm. He squeezed the scar between his fingers, hard.

"Gah!" America exclaimed, holding his breath. It only lasted a moment, then the Russian released. Alfred saw Russia holding a small tube object, no bigger than a grain of rice.

"There." Ivan said happily, then tossed the microchip into the fire. Alfred's arm bleed a little, Ivan quickly lapped the blood up with his tongue.

"AH! Gros..." Alfred yelled before coughing again. He felt too weak to move away, letting the larger nation taste him. "Stop." America vision was blurring and he was lightheaded. Alfred fell over into Ivan's chest. Russia caressed the younger nation's hair gently. "I need to piss." Alfred mumbled.

"I will help you." Russia stood, pulling America to his feet. Alfred wobbled, Ivan keeping him from falling over.

"I don't need your h-help. Get off me, d-drunk vodka bastard..." America protested. Ivan let him go and Alfred fell back to the ground. He held himself upright on his arms, glaring up at the Russian.

"You say you do not want my help. So as punishment, go in your pants." Russia said smiling down at him.

"Like hell I will, sick commie." Alfred said horsely. He began to struggle with his zipper. Ivan quickly stopped him and pushed him onto his back, straddling the other nation.

"No, no, Alfred." Ivan scolded. He turned around to face America's crotch. Still sitting on Alfred's stomach, he zipped the smaller man's pants back up. "Now, I am going to watch." The Russian said, waiting eagerly.

"I just won't go then." America said pouting, crushed under Russia's weight. He could feel Russia's huge dick pressed up against him. His view blocked by Russia's bottom. Alfred could feel himself growing in excitement, he turned his head avoiding Ivan's large ass.

"You will go eventually. I wonder if I rub it, you will go faster?" Russia said thoughtfully. He began stroking Alfred's bulge, which was slowly starting to grow beneath the fabric.

"D-damn." Alfred hissed, clenching his teeth. He coughed up more bloody phlegm. It began running down the side of his face. "Mmmm...ah..." America groaned softly, trying hard not to relieve himself. "S-stop Ivan." He pleaded quietly, panting heavily.

Russia smiled happily. This had only been the second time the nation had ever said his name, and so cutely. "What was that?..." Ivan teased, stroking harder. Alfred arched his back in sinful pleasure. America was actually enjoying it and he hated himself for it. He closed his eyes tightly.

"Ivan!" Alfred yelled, digging his nails into the dirt. Ivan laughed and continued, edging the other nation. "A-aaah!" America exclaimed. He could feel the warm sensation in his pants as he soaked them through. Russia waited til the stain stopped growing, then got off America. Sitting at the smaller man's side to examine his face, smiling. Alfred's eyes were still shut in shame. His breathing heavy and cheeks flushed red.

"Good boy." Russia whispered sweetly, sweeping America's hair back from his face.

"I hate you." Alfred said spitefully. Unable to face the man who had pleasured him.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Alfred. Do not say stuff like that, you will make me upset. You know what happens when I get upset, da?" Ivan threatened. America was surprisingly silent. "Let us remove these wet clothes." Ivan said, starting to pull Alfred's pants off.

"No, w-wait!" America coughed. Ignoring Alfred, Ivan yanked his pants clean off. Russia was pleasantly surprised. Under the thin wet fabric of America's boxers, he was fully erect.

"Oh my Alfred, did my teasing excite you that much?" Russia snickered. Alfred said nothing. Ivan wiggled America's underwear off, his member springing out.

"Nah..." Alfred cried, biting his lip. However he did not move away, or try to stop the larger nation. Russia smiled wide.

"You want me, don't you Alfred?" Ivan said playfully. America blushed even harder, unable to answer the man. Russia poked at the head of America's shaft. "Answer."

"Y-yes!" America yelled, despite his own discretion.


	24. Chapter 24

Russia laughed long and hard. He finally stopped, wiping a tear from his eye. Alfred's face was beet red, his member hard and needy. Aching for more.

"What do you want me to do?" Ivan asked cruelly. He circled America's pubic area with his finger.

"...hand-job..." Alfred mumbled, 'he figured a hand-job would be less gay.' Russia laughed again.

"I can do that...but, I need you to service me first." Ivan said with a smile. Ivan straddled America once again. hovering above the man's chest.

"H-how?..." Alfred asked, incredibly horny. Russia moved slightly, his large semi-hard dick being shoved into America's face. "N-no way!" America protested, turning his head away. There was no way in hell he was going to suck another guys dick.

"Fine. Then you can do it to yourself." Ivan said. He got off Alfred and positioned himself inbetween America's leg. Russia grabbed both of them up in his hands and pushed them over Alfred's head, his own dick pressing against his lips. America was surprised his body was so flexible, but the strain of having his body crunched was effecting his breathing and becoming very painful. He coughed.

"Sto...mmmm!" America began, but was cut short by Russia shoving his member deep and hard into his mouth. Alfred gaged on his own cock, the warmth almost making him ejaculate.

"Is it tasty, little Alfred?" Ivan asked pushing down Alfred's legs as hard as he could. Alfred struggled, being suffocated. The loss of oxygen only making him more aroused, until he finally came. The nasty white fluid filling his mouth, he choked. A trail flowed down his chin, he looked up at Russia who smiled down at him from between his legs. Tears dripped from America's eyes, face blue, his cock still lingering in his mouth. "Swallow." Russia commanded. Alfred did as he was told, the bitter liquid sliding down the back of his throat. Ivan chuckled and Released him. Alfred gasped for air, coughing heavily. Weak and in pain, he shivered. "I love tormenting Alfred." Ivan said, kissing him forcefully.

He pressed his huge member up to America's opening, slowly pushing it in. Alfred's screams were muffled by the Russian who still kissed him. Blood dripped from him, as Russia went in deeper. Until his cock was completely swallowed by the younger nation. Ivan moved at an agonizing slow pace, making Alfred feel as much pain as he possibly could. Russia released his lips letting the smaller man breath.

"A-aah...God, p-please." Alfred sniffled. "It h-hurts." America cried softly, his body in agony.

"Poor Alfred. It hurts that badly." Ivan snickered coldly. He moved his hands to America's opening and pressed his fingers in, pulling Alfred apart further. More blood spilling out of him.

"Ngh!" Alfred screamed. " No more, PLEASE!" The merciless Russian smiled and continued to hold him open wide with his hands, moving his member even slower than before.

Russia did not care if he came or not, he just wanted to see America in painful misery. Alfred cried out more, coughing up blood after every outburst. Finally he was silent, unable to speak. He sniveled, tears running down his face. His body quivering in pain, eyes stuck wide open. Satisfied, Ivan exited his body. Alfred's opening uncontrollably convulsed, blood leaking out. Alfred was going into shock, if he wasn't in that state already. He felt cold.

"Do you want to sit closer to the fire Alfred?" Russia cooed, wiping the blood from America's asshole with the soiled pants. America did not respond. "Then, I guess I will move you away if you are too warm." Ivan said smiling. He got up and grabbed America by the wrist pulling him far away from the heat of the fire. "Have a nice nap Alfred." Russia whispered in Alfred's ear. Leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek, Russia went back to sit by the fire. He began humming again letting the smaller nation bleed in the darkness behind him.


	25. Chapter 25/26

The fire crackled, the Russian sat warming himself. He wondered how cold Alfred must be freezing amongst the trees. America was already sick. Russia could not help but feel bad for hurting the other nation when he was already in bad shape. Ivan was known for taking things way too far, perhaps this was one of those times. In the back of his mind, he was very worried about Alfred.

"Alfred?" Ivan called, looking at the hunched over figure behind him. Getting up slowly, he went to where America lay. Alfred shivered, turning to the side to avoid looking at him. "Alfred?" Russia called to the injured nation. America did not answer. Ivan got down on his knees and looked at his hands. The realization of what he had done set in, he felt like a monster. He did not mean to hurt him so badly, he was just playing with him. He truly did feel horrible for what he had done, even if Alfred had asked for it. Russia was teary eyed. "I-I am so sorry Alfred." Ivan said sniffling. He picked Alfred up and moved him back to the fire. Taking a seat with him in his arms. "I-I will t-try not to get carried away again, a-alright?" Russia said holding America tightly. "Let me know you are, okay? Answer me...please..."

"Idiot." Alfred insulted quietly, letting Ivan smother him. He snuggled into the larger nations chest, the hole no longer bothering him. Even though the 'giant' had done those things to him, he did not like Ivan all 'boo-hooy'. Besides, Russia's tears were dripping down America's back and they were cold. Ivan sat up and stared at Alfred, tears in his eyes. America looked at him strangely, then, Russia fell into him.

"Thank God, I t-thought I lost you!" Russia blubbered into Alfred, he wrapped his arms around his waist hugging him close. "I really am s-sorry Alfred. I am a h-horrible person. I don't even deserve to be called human!" He cried harder. America actually felt sorry for the guy, even though the psychopath had raped him and almost killed him; 'twice'.

"H-hey. I'm fine, so no more c-crying, okay?" Alfred mumbled. Ivan sobs only got louder, America patted the crying nations head hesitantly. Russia looked up at him tears running from his eyes.

"W-what are you d-doing?..." Ivan sniffled.

"N-nothing." America blushed and pulled his hand away.

"A-are you...comforting m-me?" Russia said in a childlike voice.

"...y-yeah." Alfred said, looking away. Ivan smiled weakly and nuzzled into America.

"E-even though you despise me?" He cried.

"uh...I-I don't h-hate you that much..." America grumbled softly. Russia's violet eyes flashed back up at him in curiosity.

"...really?.." Russia asked hopeful.

"...r-really." Alfred answered. Russia smiled happily and giggled.

"W-when we get out of here...c-can you and I-I go out for i-ice cream?" He asked in a pleading voice.

"...f-fine..." Alfred replied after a long break of silence. America would probably regret what he had just said, but he could not stand seeing the bastard cry. Holding Alfred tightly Ivan closed his eyes falling into a deep sleep. Alfred held still, he didn't want to wake him. If he was asleep he was less harmful to America's health. Besides, he was warm. America put his arms around the larger nation and rested his head on his shoulder. He drifted quietly off to sleep.

"Ow!" Alfred exclaimed as his back was slammed into a tree. He opened his eyes, Russia standing over him. "What the..." Ivan placed his hand over the American's mouth. He looked around worried.

"Quiet Alfred...they found us." Russia whispered. Releasing his hand he looked around the tree. Two men dressed in black stood with guns, they were examining the burnt out fire pit. Ivan quickly retreated and looked down at America. "Can you walk?" He asked. His voice was calm and serious. America tried to lift himself, pain prickled through his body. He winced then looked back up at Russia. Watching his reaction, Ivan almost burst into tears. Alfred shook his head and looked away. "Then you wait here, da?" Ivan said. He bent down and picked up a large fallen branch, 'which was more like a small tree' and swing it over his shoulder with ease. "This will not take long." Russia smiled wickedly, his face going dark. Alfred shivered, glad that this time the look wasn't directed at him.

Ivan walked slowly out from behind the tree, then ran silently at the two men. Before they knew what had hit him, the impact had sent them head first into a giant rock. Alfred watched from hiding, peeking out from around the tree. Russia snickered and brought the branch back over his shoulder, then swung it again. Smashing the two against the rock. Blood splattered, Ivan turned and walked back to Alfred. The horribly twisted smile still on his face. America was disgusted, that anyone could enjoy killing so much and could take others lives so freely without a thought in the world. Alfred was glaring at the bipolar Russian. Ivan's smile faded.

"What is wrong? You should be happy, I got rid of them." Ivan said, throwing the blooded branch away.

"Stupid! You did not have to KILL them!" America shouted, coughing followed. Russia did not understand.

"...but that is the only way, I know..." Ivan said quietly.

"No more killing! Or-or...I won't go get ice cream with you!" Alfred said, crossing his arm. Russia's eyes went wide.

"Okay! I will not anymore! Promise! P-please go with me!" Ivan pleaded clinging to America. Alfred blushed, 'the guy must really like ice cream.'

"Yes, we will go. As long as you don't break your promise." America pouted.

"Da!" Russia said cheerfully, snuggling Alfred. 'He liked the fact that he could not run away.'

**Chapter 26:**

"The signal is coming from over here!" Matthew called to the others, moving quickly through the forest. He was using a tracking device to locate America. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. They had been searching all morning.

"Hurry!" England barked to Francis who was carrying him on his back. He was wearing some of Canada's clothing, which were much too large.

"Remember, we did not HAVE to bring you." France said smiling. He was clearly annoyed. Matthew suddenly stopped, his mouth hanging open.

"Uh...you guys..." Canada said, flabbergasted.

"What?" Arthur asked, France came up beside his younger brother. They both saw what had made Canada stop. Two naked corpses laid over a large boulder, a pair of jeans and underwear discarded by a tree next to them. They were that of two men, faces completely crushed in. All that was recognizable was there hair color, both blond. France looked away from the mess. "No..." England said in tears. "Put me down!" He said struggling, he fell to the ground and ran over to the smaller of the disfigured bodies. "IDIOT!" Arthur screamed he dropped to his knees in anguish, tears rolling down his cheeks. "D-damn wanker! Why? W-Why did you ALWAYS HAVE TO TRY TO BE A HERO!" He screamed at the corpse. "Wh-why didn't you sto-stop him?" England asked, crying into his hands. "WHY?" Behind him his brothers stood, both in tears. Francis tried his best to comfort Canada, hugging him close.


	26. Chapter 26

"Arthur?" America said excitedly running out from behind the tree dressed in a blooded black suit. Arthur looked up, his eyes swollen. Alfred glomped him, knocking him over to the side.

"A-Alfred!" Arthur cried, holding on to him tight. "I t-thought you..."

"What the hell is 'Canada'...is that another name for pot?" Alfred said, reading Arthur's sweatshirt. England pushed him off him and smacked him across the face.

"I'm Canada." Came a voice from nowhere, 'the woods must have been haunted.'

"What the bloody hell were you thinking!" Arthur scolded. He then broke down into tears again, hugging him.

"Awww... how sweet." Russia said smiling. He came up to the four brothers wearing a black suit as well. France and Canada quickly stepped in front of Alfred and Arthur protectively, both pointing guns in Russia's direction.

"Stay away." France warned glaring up at the much larger nation.

"Y-yeah!" Matt agreed weakly.

"That Drunken Bastard! I am going to kill him!" England yelled viciously, he stood up. America grabbed his hand.

"Hey, wait a minute! He's cool." Alfred said. Arthur tried to pull away.

"What do you mean, 'he's cool?'" England fumed. "He did all those 'things' to you!"

"Yeah, but..." America started, however he was interrupted.

"But nothing! He fucking raped you!" Arthur screamed. Canada blushed bright 's glared at Russia even more intensely.

"Yeah, he actually raped me twice. The last time was about three hours ago. Hey, I can give myself a blow-job!" America added, this information only making things worse. France stepped forward and snatched his shirt, pointing the gun in his face.

"The only person allowed to rape my brothers is me. I should vous assassiner." Francis threatened. Russia smiled at the French man, he did not like being threatened one bit.

"If you were wise you would let go, da?" Ivan said in a pleasant voice. "Do not make me play, 'beat you with a stick', because I will win."

"Ivan!" Alfred said pushing him and France apart. "You are not aloud to hurt them." America told the Russian. Alfred turned and coughed into his sleeve.

"Alfred, are you sick?' Matthew asked concerned, France and Canada stopped pointing there guns. Russia rubbed America on the back gently.

"Just a little." Alfred wheezed. Arthur did not like Ivan touching him. He ran up and snatched Canada's gun. He pushed Russia away. "Hey! Stop it!" America yelled at him, shoving England back.

"I don't want him around you!" England yelled pointing the gun in the Russian's face.

"Maybe I want him around to touch me!" Alfred defended, stepping in front of the barrel. "We are going to get ice cream together! His dick is tons larger than yours too. Wait, do you even have a dick? That explains how a chick can pass as you! And will someone please explain What the Hell 'Canada' is?" America yelled. Arthur looked at him confused, 'he was an idiot.'

"What the hell are you yelling about?" Arthur asked. Russia hugged Alfred lovingly. England's face went red from anger. "Are you telling me you enjoy being raped by him?" Alfred looked away blushing.

"...n-no." America said quietly. His body still hurt from the last time. Arthur tried to push Alfred out of the way, they fought back and forth. Until the gun accidently fired. A bullet zoomed out hitting America in the torso. He collapsed to the ground.

"Alfred!" Canada screamed and ran over, followed by France.

"Alfred, are you okay? Alfred?" Francis asked, undressing him to examine his wound. America did not answer his eyes half open, Russia stood flabbergasted. The gun dropped from Arthur's hands.

"A-Alfred..." England squeaked. Ivan grabbed Arthur by his neck and threw him into a tree. Russia's face twisted into a smile.

"Ivan! Beating Arthur up is not going to help Alfred! Just sit down and relax!" France yelled. Ivan stopped and sat down where he stood without a word. Arthur sat up and shivered, traumatized. "Damn, I think it hit his spinal cord. We need to get him medical attention, now." Francis stood up and looked to Russia. "Will you carry him?" France asked. Ivan nodded and gathered the American in his arms. "Arthur! Get on my back, we're leaving." Francis said not happy with his brother. Arthur did not move.

"I shot him...I-I shot Alfred." England said, eyes wide. He wrapped his arms around his legs, tears ran from his eyes. France sighed and threw him over his shoulder. They walked, until they reached the road. A car was parked, all of them got in.

"Is it safe to go to a hospital...if 'they' are looking for us?" Canada asked. France looked at him through the review mirror as he drove.

"We are not going to the hospital, we are going to see Japan." Francis explained. "He is staying in a rental house."

"I thought he was at the Hotel." Matthew asked curiously.

"He was. Until an incident with Germany and Italy showing up in his bed in the middle of the night made him want to move to a house." France said trying not to laugh. Canada nodded watching Russia cuddle America in the front seat.


	27. Chapter 27

Blood curdling screams echoed through the small home. The screaming had lasted several hours, as Japan and France operated on there fellow nation. Arthur rocked back and forth covering his ears in the corner of the tiny living room. He was mumbling to himself, either that, or praying. Canada was sitting on the coach. France had put him in charge of keeping an eye on Russia, although it seemed to be the other way around. He wished Ivan did not have to sit so close, 'he was practically sitting on him.'

The screaming suddenly stopped. Both Russia and Canada looked up to the door leading to the bedroom that served as a makeshift operating room. The doorknob turned, and France appeared. His clothing drenched in Alfred's Blood.

"Well, he is going to live...but..." He sighed and shook his head. "...I don't think, he will ever walk again. He keeps asking for Arthur." Looks over to his unstable brother. "I told him that he isn't here."

"C-can we see him?" Canada asked quietly. France nodded and stepped aside, allowing him and Russia to enter. America laid on the bed, his eyes closed.

"The anesthetic just kicked in. He is still in allot of pain, but at least he is not screaming." Japan explained, wiping his hands on a blooded towel. Russia took a seat next to the bed, Canada standing behind him.

"Alfred?" Ivan said gently. America opened his eyes, looking over to Russia weakly.

"Where i-is Arthur?" Alfred asked. "W-why won't th-they let me see h-him?" His eyes began to tear up, Ivan wiped them away.

"Shhhh...Arthur is on his way to see you right now. I promise." Russia said smiling, he brushed Alfred hair back. "He will be here soon."

"What's t-taking him so long? H-he's always been b-by my side when I'm sick." Starts to cry. "Doesn't he c-care about me-e anymore?"

"Hush now, of coarse he cares about you." Ivan comforted.

"I-is it because I eat during m-meetings? I won't do it anymore I-I swear! Will you t-tell him? W-will you?" Alfred pleaded. "Promise me y-you'll tell him."

"Yes, I promise." Russia returned, caressing the smaller nations cheek.

"I want Arthur!" Alfred cried. "I-I want him t-to be here! Why i-isn't he here? I'm s-sorry I called y-your dick little, I-I was just j-joking! D-don't hate me Arthur, don't hate me!"

"Arthur does not hate you, no-one hates you." Ivan said, trying to settle him down.

"ARTHUR!" America screamed. "ARTHUR!"


	28. Chapter 28

Russia sighed and got up from his seat.

"Where are y-you going? D-don't leave me here alone." America sniffled, tears running down his face.

"You are not alone, Canada is right here." Ivan said calmly.

"Who the hell is that?" Alfred sobbed.

"I'm Matthew, your brother?" Matthew said, waving at him. America looked at him, then back to Russia.

"Y-you're coming back r-right?" America asked.

"Yes, I am going to go get Arthur for you." Ivan said smiling. Alfred's eyes lit up brightly.

"A-Arthur?" America said happily with a small smile. Russia nodded leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Ivan looked down at England who was still huddled in the corner completely out of it. France and Japan had gone off to bed, leaving just the two of them in the room. Russia smiled at him and walked over and bent down in front of him.

"Hello Arthur." Ivan said in a seemingly cheerful voice. Arthur looked at him terrified, shivering. "Do not worry, I promised Alfred I would not kill anymore." He added with a smile.

"A-Alfred..." Arthur sobbed.

"Now." He grabbed England by the hair and pulled him close. "You better suck it up, or I will have to play a game with you." Russia threatened. "Wood Shop..."

"W-wood shop?..." England repeated.

"Yes. I would be the carpenter and you would be the wood." Ivan explain happily. "I would nail you, screw you, cut you...until I was happy with the result!" Arthur's eyes widened.

"B-but I don't want t-to..." England said in a small voice.

"Then wait here, I will go get my toolbox." Russia said. He released him and started to walk away.

"W-wait!" Arthur called after him. " I-I will see him..." He said, looking away.

"Excellent." Russia cried. He pulled England to his feet and pushed him into the room where America laid. Alfred jolted up when he saw him. Arthur avoided looking at him directly.

"A-Arthur?" America said sniffling. He pulled the covers off, trying to move his legs. "...W-why can't I move..." Alfred asked quietly. Everyone in the room was silent. Alfred looked to Arthur for an answer. "Why can't I move A-Arthur?" America said, tears again rolling down his face. "Arthur?" He squeaked. Alfred did not understand why no-one was answering him. He saw the tears streaming down Arthur's face. "H-hey don't cry Arthur. I-I'm okay...I will be okay." America said weakly. "Even like this I-I could kick your ass." Alfred smiled at him. When there was no reply, America tried to get up again. Arthur walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself." England said.

"Arthur. What's wrong with me?" America demanded. Arthur broke down and hugged Alfred tightly.

"I-I am sorry " He sobbed. "I am so sorry."

"They are here!" France yelled, rushing into the room suddenly. "I do not know how they found out." He ran to the windows and closed the curtains.

"H-how many are th-there?" Matthew asked scared.

"Just three." Francis replied, getting his gun from his pocket. "It is the girl and the other two replacements."

"Is that so?" Russia said with a smile. He stood, wanting to beat the shit out of them.

"No Ivan, you all stay hidden. Me, Matthew and Japan will deal with this." France protested. He left the room, Canada following close behind. Tucking the gun in his back pocket, he nodded to Japan to open the door.

"Good afternoon. What bring you all here?" Japan greeted in a calm voice.

"Alfred said you invited us." Said the female, she flashed a glare at the other America who laughed. There was a pause of silence.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?" Other America asked with a smirk.

"I am about to head back home. Inviting you in, then having you leave would not make much sense." Japan answered with a small smile. The other Russia smiled back.

"Since you know, I am not going to keep up this charade." Said the female England with a smile. Japan's faded from his face. The air was tense, something was about to go down.

"Hand them over, and we will not kill you." She demanded, her hand going for her gun. Japan quickly pulled his sword in defense.

"You are not welcomed here. Please leave the premises." Japan said in a serious tone. Other America drew his gun, Japan was amazed how similar he was to Alfred. It was uncanny. He wondered if the rest of him looked the same, as well. Japan blushed and looked back to the Female who was smiling.

"I will let you kiss him." She cooed teasingly. " Or, if you behave super good...I will let you suck his dick." Female England leaned up against the Other America, grabbing his crotch playfully.

"A-ah!" Other America moaned. Japan's cheeks flushed red, he shook his head.

"You are a sick woman." Japan said in disgust. She licked up the Other America's face, leaving a wet trail with her tongue.

"Am I, or are you just jealous?" Female England said smiling. "Maybe this America is not good enough for you. I know Alfred is hurt, perhaps if you hand him over I will let you have your way with him before I kill him. France had heard enough and stepped next to Japan. Followed by Matthew.

"You are all to leave, now." France warned.

"Oh no, it seems evenly matched...or are we?" The British woman said with a smirk. "Matthew..." Canada looked down and stepped forward, pointing a gun to France's face.

"Sorry." Canada said shamed.

"Bastard!" Francis said angry and betrayed.

"So, that is how they found us." Japan whispered. "Why would you betray your brothers?" There was silence, then the woman answered for him.

"Matty likes it when I dominate him in bed." She said caressing Matthew's cheek. Canada blushed and looked to his feet. The woman preceeded to pull down Matthew's pants, revealing his harness. His penis was locked in a chastity, a small wire coming from the tip from a small vibrator. A large dildo was crammed in his ass, vibrating on high. "Matty loves toys. He has been wearing this number for days. Such a good boy." The female England said, a hand traveling up Canada's shirt.

"Naah! Please, n-not in front of th-them." Canada pleaded, his body trembling in pleasure. Japan looked away his face burning red. France was about to lose it and punch the woman in the face.

"As you can see, I am in complete control of this situation." The woman snickered, yanking on Canada's curl. He moaned loudly.

"I am going to murder you!" France yelled. The female England smirked.

"Matty, put the gun to your head." She ordered. Canada did as he was told. "I will have him pull the trigger, if you do not hand Alfred and the others over." She warned.

"Sorry Francis." Canada said panting, a trail of drool running from his lips.

"Matthew are you insane?" France cried. The woman laughed, sucking on the tip of Canada's hair.


	29. Chapter 29

"Now, if you would, put your weapons down." The English-woman commanded. Reluctantly, Japan and France complied. They placed there weapons on the ground. "Go in and get Alfred and the others. Watch out for the Russian, you know how unstable he is." She said to her lackeys. Canada, other America and the Russian imposter all entered the house. France glared at the woman fiercely.

Canada walked into the room first, the gun hidden under his sweat jacket. England looked up from Alfred who was fast asleep. Russia was in the corner smiling wide.

"So, how many are there?" England asked.

"Just three." Canada said quietly, he looked to his feet shamefully.

"What's wrong Matthew?" Arthur asked concerned.

"...I'm sorry." Matthew whispered, he pulled the gun from his jacket and put it to America's temple. Alfred squirmed a little, still sleeping.

"What in bloody hell are you doing!" England said standing. Russia had also stood, starring at the gun.

"You all have to come with us." Canada said, the other America and other Russia came in behind him.

"Traitor!" England yelled.

"Say another word, I will have to sh-shoot him." Matthew said teary eyed. "Please, don't make me." England and Russia were silent, they both knew that Canada was not lying. Other America grabbed Alfred by his arm. Alfred woke up quickly.

"Wha...? What the Hell are you doing here bastard!" Alfred yelled, trying to pull him off.

"He-he can't walk, please be careful!" Matthew said worried.

"Is that so?" Other America smirked and snatched Alfred by his hair, he drug him off the bed. A chunk of hair was ripped from his scalp. England clenched his fist, glaring at Other America.

"Aah! BASTARD!" Alfred cried, wincing. A trickle of blood ran down his face from the bare spot on his head. Sitting naked on the floor he glared up at him.

"D-don't hurt him!" Canada said worried. The man ignored Matthew, dragging Alfred across the floor. He struggled against the man.

"A-Arthur!" America begged looking to him for help. Arthur looked away, unable to look at his face.

"You two follow." Matthew said softly. They did as they were told, leaving the room. They passed France and Japan, who watched helplessly from the coach. The woman walked over and straddled Alfred, twisting her gun into the bleeding area on his head. Both Russia and England were on the verge of loosing it, but feared Alfred may be shot if they said or did anything.

"I hated that stupid patch of hair on your head anyways." The female said. She got off of him and stood. "Chain the American up. We will dump him into the river on our way to the compound. Tie up the other two first." She ordered, licking the blood from the tip of the gun. Canada and her other two companions bounded Arthur's and Ivan's hands. "If he's paralyzed, he won't be any fun to torture."

"P-paralyzed?" Alfred repeated, eyes wide.

"Yeah, PARALYZED." She said smirking. "Didn't they tell you?" She stepped on his foot, Alfred watched in horror as he felt nothing.

"Arthur, is it true?" Alfred asked sitting up, his eyes were down-casted. England was quiet. "IS IT TRUE?" America yelled.

"Yes, we believe so." Russia answered in Arthur's place. His voice was soft. There was a moment of silence, Alfred sighed and shut his eyes.

"...just shoot me." America said. England's heartbeat felt as though it had stopped, he could not believe what his brother had just said.

"Shoot you?" The female England chuckled and bent down next to Alfred.

"I'm done, I give up...please, just shoot me." Alfred said, his voice calm. Russia smiled, pissed that Alfred was giving in.

"You do it." The woman whispered, handing America the gun. Alfred held it firmly in his hands, still looking downwards. He lifted it to his head and placed the barrel under his chin.

"Alfred, stop!" Arthur cried, tears running down his face. America looked into his brothers bloodshot green eyes. Everyone in the room was quiet.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I could not save you." Alfred said with a weak smile. "I guess I am not anyone's hero after-all."

"Not true, you are my hero! Y-you're mine, please, don't..." England pleaded. The woman next to Alfred whispered something inaudible in his ear. The gun fired. Blood trickled down America's body.


	30. Chapter 30

Alfred's hand shook. He dropped the gun. His face was red splattered with blood, but he did not wipe it away. The female imposter fell to the floor bleeding next to him. The bullet had shot clean through her skull. Walking over to the body, Japan checked for a pulse. He shook his head. There was none.

Japan pulled the female's lifeless body away to the couch as Russia dealt with the other two replacements. England rushed over next to America who was starring off into space. Using his own body, he hide the woman's corpse from his view. He hugged America, sobbing.

"Dammit Alfred!" Arthur cried. "D-Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry." Alfred whispered gripping at his brother's shirt. "I'm sorry, for making you worry." Ivan finished tying up the bad guys and walked over to America. He bent down next to him. Pushing Texas back into his rightful place. Alfred adjusted the glasses and smiled up at the Russian. "Thanks." Ivan patted the top of his head gently. "Can I-I go home?" America asked shaking. Arthur smiled at him weakly.

"Of course." England said quietly.

"I'll Kill You!" Matthew yelled, tears ran down his face. He pointed his gun at the back of Alfred's head. America clenched his eyes shut, fearing the worst.

"Matthew!" Francis exclaimed. He tackled Canada to the ground and wrestled the gun away. Alfred quietly watched him struggle.

"GET OFF!" Canada said, kicking and squirming under the weight of his older brother. He glared at America fiercely. The expression on his face was that of hate and it was directed solely at Alfred. "I'll kill you ALFRED, I'll Kill YOU!"


	31. Chapter 31

Snow fell from the sky softly covering the sidewalk in a thin layer. The streetlights lining the walkways were decorated in holly reefs and lights. Christmas music played through the streets of the city. They were bustling with tons of shoppers.

"Hey you two! Don't wonder off!" Arthur called after the two blonde men. One was in a wheelchair. The other was a very tall man in a tan trench coat who pushed him. He smiled cheerfully, his soft pink scarf fluttering in the wind behind them as they went.

"Sorry he had to come stalk us." America said looking over his shoulder at the bushy browed brit who trailed them.

"Not at all. My sister does the same thing." Russia said with a slight chuckle.

"Don't compare me to her, Bloody Wanker!" England yelled, coming up beside them. He adjusted himself. He buttoned up his black pea coat and fixed the green scarf that hung around his neck. "Alfred, are you sure there is an ice cream parlor still open? It's December."

"Of course I am!" Alfred said proudly. He looked up at his doubtful older brother. His light blue eyes glicened from under the glass of his spectacles. The scar across his face was nearly invisible, but could still be traced. "What? You don't trust, 'your hero?'" America teased with a smirk.

"Shut Up!" Arthur said pushing America's trooper hat down into his face. England blushed and looked away.

"Hey!" Alfred laughed. Russia fixed the hat for him, letting the earflaps down to cover his ears. America blushed. "Thanks."

"Of course." Ivan said happily. The three of them continued on down the road. They passed several shops until they finally reached the ice cream parlor. They entered and stood at the counter. The Russian's eyes lit up as he peered down at all the flavors of frozen joy. His daze was soon interrupted by one of his companions.

"I can't see, c-can you...read them off for me?" Alfred asked looking down. England patted America on the shoulder. He felt guilty, it was his fault Alfred was like this. Ivan looked at him sadly, then, suddenly, it turned to a big smile. He got behind Alfred and lifted the chair off the ground. High enough for America to see into the freezer.

"Is that better?" Russia asked.

"Yeah!" Alfred said giggling. He looked down inside excitedly.

"C-careful, do not drop him!" Arthur said, worried. He sighed and smiled. America looked so happy even after...

Each of them picked out their ice cream, even Arthur got a bowl. Russia rolled Alfred up to one of the small tables and took a seat for himself. America removed his hat. The patch of hair had begun to grow back. Russia smiled and licked his massive cone happily, he nearly had all the flavors avaliable. America sucked on his scooperman ice cream loudly. A trail of it ran down his face, which Arthur quickly wiped away.

"You are always a slob." Arthur mumbled, placing the now soiled napkin back down on the table.

"I did not get that flavor Alfred, may I?" Russia asked.

"Sure." America said with a smile. "Let me just get a spoo..." Without warning Ivan leaned over and slowly licked up one side of the cone in Alfred's hand.

"Tasty. Just like you." Ivan said in a deep voice. Arthur and Alfred both were blushing brightly.

"Don't get any ideas vodka bastard." Alfred said. Arthur kicked Ivan under the table, slightly jealous. Russia jumped causing his cone to fall from his hands into America's lap.

"Sorry!" England apologized, rushing to wipe it off him.

"Want me to lick you clean?" Russia offered with a smirk. America said nothing, starring off into space.

"Stop." Alfred said quietly, grabbing England's hand.

"Stop, why?" Arthur asked looking at his brother strangely.

"I-I can feel it..." America whispered.

"What?" England asked confused.

"I CAN FEEL IT!" Alfred said, tears began to run down his face. He smiled, taking pride in feeling the slight coldness on his leg. "I-I can feel it Arthur." America looked over to Arthur who was also in tears. Arthur smiled weakly. Ivan finished cleaning Alfred off and patted him on the head.

"Maybe you will get them back, da?" Russia said hopeful.

"Yeah." Alfred sighed. Arthur without warning, hugged America tightly. He sobbed into his overly puffy winter coat. Alfred was taken aback, then returned the gesture.

"I love you Arthur." America said quietly, rubbing Arthur's back. Ivan watched smiling. The warmness of the moment even touched his cold heart. He leaned over and hugged them both in a great big bear hug.

"I love you too Alfred!" Russia said giggling.

"Damn Russian Wanker! He was not talking to you!" England scolded. Ivan ignored him and continued his hug.

"Arthur, you didn't say it back." Alfred said softly. Arthur blushed and grabbed the back of Alfred's coat firmly.

"I love you, Alfred." England replied, his voice mellow and sincere.

"Can I take you home and 'do' you tonight?" Russia asked smiling. "This expression of love, really turns me on."

"No! Besides, don't you have my double in your basement to do those kind of things to?" America said pushing Ivan off.

"He is not as fun as the real thing. I much rather have you chained to the wall." Russia coaxed.

"You, stay away from Alfred! He only agreed to go with you today, because if he did not, you would have went psycho! It is not like he actually likes you." England said crossing his arms. Ivan's face went sad.

"That's not true! I really did want to come hang out with you." Alfred said puckering his lips. Russia face lit-up.

"Really?" Ivan asked smiling.

"Yeah, really. Besides I promised." America said smiling back. "Hey! I got an idea, why don't you and Arthur stay at my place tonight. It will be a old fashioned sleep-over!" Alfred suggested. Russia's smile widened.

"NO RAPE!" England yelled at him. Everyone in the ice-cream shop was starring at him. He hunched over in embarrassment and covered his face with his hands. America pointed at him laughing.

"Such a dork!" Alfred laughed.

"Hee hee." Russia giggled.

"You, shut it." Arthur said glaring at the giant smiling Russian.

"By the way, what happened to your double, Ivan?" America asked curious.

"Belarus has taken a liking to him. They are getting married." Ivan said smiling, happy his psychotic sister was not his problem anymore. "I wish you would have given me little Matthew too, he would have been fun."

"I think that Francis keeping an eye on him is best." England said with a sigh. "That's a good enough punishment, as any."

"I don't want to talk about that Two-Timing Bastard." Alfred said sternly. "I would have rather the bullet had gone through his head, than the cross-dresser." Arthur slapped America across the face.

"Don't talk about your brother that way!" England scolded.

"Whatever." Alfred mumbled, rubbing the red spot on his cheek.

The three nations arrived at America's small inner city apartment. A place Alfred stayed in often when he was attending the local meetings. The building was unfortunately not handicap friendly, but luckily his apartment was on the first floor. England opened the door to the messy living room. Dirty clothes, movies, and trash littered the floor.

"My god Alfred!" Arthur gasped. "How the bloody hell can you stand living in this place?" Alfred wheeled himself inside.

"What you mean?" America asked confused. He pushed a pile of porn off the leather sofa. "You guys can sit here."

"...I don't think I want to." England mumbled, taking a seat. Russia sat next to him smiling.

"I have to pee." Alfred said.

"Do you need help?" Ivan asked cheerfully.

"...I rather Arthur help me." America said quietly. Arthur stood and pushed his brother into the small bathroom. He shut the door behind them, locking it, just incase the Russian got curious.

"Haven't you been using a catheter?" England asked. Alfred looked up at his brother in disgust.

"No way man! I'm never sticking anything up there." America said pouting.

"Whatever." Arthur sighed, helping Alfred onto the toilet.

"I didn't come in here to piss, I lied." Alfred said quietly.

"Then wh..." England started. Before he could finish America had pulled him onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around him, Alfred kissed the back of Arthur's neck gently. "What in bloody hell are you doing!" The now blushing Arthur exclaimed.

"I want you to stop worrying so much about me." America whispered into his brother's ear. "You've been acting so tense around me, it makes me uncomfortable." There was a pause of silence.

"It's just...it makes me upset to see you like this." Arthur said sadly, leaning against Alfred's chest. "It's all because of me."

"If it wouldn't have been me, it might have been you." Alfred said, holding him tighter. "It was partly my fault too. So stop blaming yourself, it's bumming me out."

"Okay, I'll try." England sighed.

"If you want to make it up to me, then give me a blowjob." Alfred said snickering.

"WHAT?" Arthur asked, his heart racing. He un-zipped his pants just incase they would end up going further.

"I'm kidding." America said quickly. He sat his head on Arthur's shoulder and listened to his fast paced heart beat. "Dude, don't have a heart attack." England squirmed away. He adjusted his olive sweatshirt, his face was beet red. "Why is your fly down?" Alfred asked. Arthur turned away and zipped it quickly. "Such a Dork!" America laughed.

Just as Arthur was to leave, there was a dripping sound. He turned back around to face his brother. Alfred had pee'd himself. Looking down, Alfred saw for himself. A large dark spot in the crotch of his jeans, running in streams down his legs. His face went red then his eyes began to tear up. America hid his face in his hands, crying softly. Arthur almost cried himself, but stayed strong.

"I will help clean you up." England said quietly. He got down onto his knees and undid the younger nation's pants. Alfred's underwear were soaked. Arthur could see his limp member through the cotton. The Brit dazed off, starring at the cock in front of him. He felt drool running from the corner of his lips, he licked it away. He shook his head, making himself come out of his daydreaming state. Quickly he pulled Alfred's pants off. He grabbed the waistband of America's underwear and hesitated. Soon he would come face to face with Alfred's member. His face was flushed.

"Uh...Are you okay?" Alfred asked looking at Arthur who sat between his spread legs. England looked up, his face aroused. America's face went panicked. He knew that look, it was the look the chicks in all his pornos had. "W-What are you doing?'

"Sorry Alfred, I have to." Arthur said lustfully. he began to pull down Alfred's underwear slowly.- The door of the bathroom slammed open, Russia stood smiling in the doorway. In his hand he held the broken doorknob.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Alfred exclaimed, breathing heavily.

"What are you two doing?" Ivan asked giggling.

England apologized and finished cleaning America. All three of them went into Alfred's bedroom. Ivan sat America onto the bed and tucked him in caringly. Arthur blushed and got into bed next to him.

"Sorry about before." England said quietly.

"You already said sorry, it's cool." Alfred sighed. Ivan stripped down to his briefs and hopped into bed of the other side of America and cuddled him. "Get off, I can't sleep like this." Alfred said, squirming.

"Damn Russian!" Arthur scolded. Russia let go and frowned. America sighed.

"Fine, you can." He mumbled. Ivan giggled and latched his arms back around Alfred. Arthur glared at him.

"Goodnight Alfred." Russia said happily.

"Night Ivan." Alfred yawned. "Night Arthur."

"Sleep well Alfred." England grumbled, falling asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Wow, you suffered through! Haha-
> 
> There is a sequel to this called "Scars and Pipes Forever", will upload soon.
> 
> -kolxhero-0))


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